Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war
by ephiny63
Summary: COMPLETED! Teen!Chesters AU Dean, Sam and John are members of the Hunter Elite after the Apocalypse on the 9th of the 9th 1999. Sam has to deal with his emerging gifts, his father as a commanding officer and a protective big brother as they fight to save humanity
1. Chapter 1

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

I have noticed that a lot of people are asking for teen!chester stories particularly with H/C so here is one that has been on my mind for quite a while. It will be AU for two reasons: One, it is pre-series so there is no canon to actually follow except for the few titbits thrown our way from the writers and creators. Two, this story is set in a world of my creation where the boys are more soldiers than sons but for a very good reason.

**Author's Note**: The title is a quote from William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar

**Author's Note 2**: I will return to my other stories very soon, this one has been interrupting my attempts at writing updates so I figured I had better get it out and written.

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

Chapter One

20/01/2000

John Winchester stood and stretched his aching neck and back before snatching up his glass of pure malt scotch, his last indulgence, and striding over to the window. In the distance he could see the two lone figures training on the hillside; still training side-by-side and in perfect unison way past the time when the others had finished.

A tired smile played on his lips as he sipped the scorching liquid, his two soldiers, only he and he alone could lay claim to familial ownership of them. Neither had reached legal age but both of them were highly trained and capable of taking a life if needed.

He scrubbed at his beard with his left hand; weariness had descended over him like a funeral pall and had shown no sign of lifting these past few years. Almost sixteen years ago he had taken his tiny sons from a burning building and thought he was fighting a silent, invisible battle against monsters that should have remained in nightmares and children's fairy tales. Now, now he was the commander of two elite teams of military trained hunters fighting for the very existence of humanity. The Hunter Elite were highly valued and revered by the general population who had survived – the Apocalypse.

Five years ago the civilian population were still ignorant of the battle waging between Gods, Demons, Angels and Man until it all came to a head on the ninth of the ninth, nineteen-ninety-nine.

Before that the biggest worry was the turn of the century, the millennium bug, nothing now but a satirical memory in the annals of time. The ninth hour struck and darkness descended; horrified people watched as a total eclipse of the sun came suddenly without warning, this time the shadow was blood red. The eclipse heralded the beginning of the Apocalypse, monsters and the supernatural openly walked the earth, taking lives and souls with impunity. A demonic disease known as the Croatoan Virus decimated the innocent, infant and adult alike. Seemingly overnight the world took on a war-ravaged appearance, neighbours turned on each other and on the governments.

From the depths of the despair came the Hunter Elite, and overnight the once bedraggled band of hunters, who all skirted on the edges of depravity and lawlessness were they only bastion of hope left.

S—D

Swallowing his scotch John turned to the maps and wearily tried to concentrate on them; a week ago demons waged a violent attack on the last inhabitants of Chicago in the ensuing battle they had also lost six hunters. Now, now he was contemplating on sending in new troops led by his own sons. His eldest Dean, a born warrior and tactician at the tender age of twenty was a veteran of six campaigns all successful without the loss of any hunters under his command and now on the eve of his twenty-first birthday he might be facing the biggest fight of his young life.

Then there's Sam, John's sixteen year old son and his biggest antagonist and source of worry. Like his brother Dean, he was trained from a young age to fight supernatural entities, but unlike his brother his not a born warrior. Sam is scary smart, he should be prepping for university and a career in law or medicine instead he is one of the best researchers John had ever seen often rivalling Bobby Singer as the best researcher known. Naturally rebellious and filled with a deep-seated rage Sam had a knack of knowing exactly what to say or do to set his father's temper going which often led to very loud and often violent encounters between them. The only one who could diffuse their stormy relationship was Dean, though John often harboured secret thoughts and jealousy of the relationship between his sons and the fact that Dean did place himself on Sam's side more than his father's.

John shook his head and poured another drink; dwelling on his own issues and problems with his boys was not going to help with the vanquishing of demons in Chicago. The Intel was good, impeccable in fact from fellow hunter and one of his few friends Caleb. He could hear Sam's rants already about sending Dean into battle and not allowing him to celebrate his twenty-first birthday, how he puts the war ahead of the welfare of his only children and how Dean deserves to have a life outside the fight. How Sam should be allowed to go to school, even the military schools would be better than this life.

Pulling out his cell phone John pressed the key for Dean's speed dial and downed his whiskey while he waited for his son to answer.

'Hey Dad.' Dean's voice came through the tiny-sounding speaker.

'Get your butts down here to the map room now Dean.' John said without preamble, he had to keep his game face on. He was sending his sons into a life-threatening battle yet again.

'We should shower first Dad.'

'No time Dean, I want you and Sam in here five minutes ago.' John barked before disconnecting the call. A slow mocking clap from behind him, made John grind his teeth and to reach for the almost empty bottle of scotch whiskey, 'what do you want Singer?'

'I take it you've got another mission for your soldiers?'

'You mean my sons?'

'Oh so you do know the meaning of the word sons?' Bobby Singer stepped away from the doorway and headed towards the centre of the room, snagging the whiskey bottle from John's hand as he passed him, 'so where are you sending them now?'

'Chicago…'

'Fuck John there are … others who can do that job you don't have to send your kids into it.'

'Just because they're my sons doesn't mean I can give them the easy battles all …'

'How about none of the time … what do you consider an easy battle? I'd like to see one.'

'Very funny Singer,' John said as he returned his attention to the window, watching as Dean and Sam sprinted towards him. Even after training for hours in the bitter cold and damp they were still in high spirits and full of energy.

'Give them some time off John for fuck's sake it's Dean's twenty-first in three days.'

'I know when my son was born Singer …'  
'Do you?'

The thunder of footsteps outside the door, called a temporary cease fire to their discussion, John turned his back on his old friend and pulled another map out of a drawer.

'Dad? Oh hey Bobby.' Dean grinned as he came to a skidding stop, 'beat you again Sammy.'

'I let ya win short-stuff.' Sam panted out right behind Dean, 'Dad, hey Uncle Bobby.' Sam smiled shyly at the man who was more of a father figure to him than his own dad.

'Hey Sam, so how are ya managing to keep yer hair so long?' Bobby grinned up at the youth, 'damned me if yer aint growing more with every passing minute.'

'Gotta outdo Dean with something,' Sam smiled showing off his deep double dimples before turning his attention to his father, the smile fading to slight grin, 'what's wrong dad?'

'Dean I need you to get your men together … you're moving out at oh-six-hundred tomorrow.' John said all but ignoring Sam, 'I received new intel from Caleb and it's not good news.'

'Dad?' Sam tried again, 'you're talking about Chicago aren't you?'

'Sam show your commanding officers some respect.' John barked out before turning back to the maps, 'just stop and listen instead of shooting your mouth off.'

'I'm right aren't I? You're sending us into the site of the latest massacre what for this time?'

'Sammy stop it,' Dean said as he turned to the maps in front of them, 'which way can we go safely?'

'Send the men on in the truck with Rufus down highway twenty and I want the two of you to take the impala an hour after them.'

'Okay now you've got me worried dad, what's going on?' Dean asked, lately John always insisted on Dean and Sam travelling in the truck with the rest of the troop.

'I need the two of you to do a job for me on the way … Rufus can get things going with Caleb until you get there.'

'Dad you're not making any sense.' Dean glanced at his scowling brother and then at his adopted uncle before looking back to his father, 'what else?'

'Bobby can you and Sam go over Caleb's information on the Croatoan victims for me?'

'What's going on dad?' Sam demanded his green eyes darkening with anger he moved with seemingly blinding speed and was up close in his father's way.

'Stand down soldier … that's an order.' John snapped.

'Dad … Sam … quit it.' Dean placed himself between his brother and father, 'step away both of you.'

Before the argument could escalate into a physical altercation Bobby took Sam into the next office, worry for the teenager etched across his craggy features, 'you okay Sam?' He asked as Sam lost all colour in his face and appeared to sway dizzily.

'Uncle Bobby?' Sam blinked and tried to focus on the older man's face but he was fighting a losing battle as his field of vision narrowed and a loud buzzing sound filled his ears.

S—D

'Dammit Dad,' Dean sighed as he sank down on a chair and took the proffered drink, 'was that necessary?'

'I need to talk to you about Chicago without your brother.' John said pulling his chair up in front of Dean, 'I didn't give Bobby and Sam all of Caleb's information.'

'What's going on Dad?'

'The yellow-eyed bastard has been sighted in Chicago, at the site of the massacre.' John blurted out.

'YED? He's in Chicago?' Dean blinked in surprise; he wasn't expecting that, 'why aren't you coming with us?'

'I'm needed here Dean …ahh I ahh have to stay and – and work on the New York front.'

'What aren't you telling me Dad?' Dean asked as his gaze narrowed and he stared at his father with a steely glint in his dark green eyes, 'what's going on?'

'Nothing you should be questioning me about, just get organised to leave at six.'

'Talk to me dad … what's going on and why won't you discuss it in front of Sam?'

S—D

'John! Dean! Git yer butts in here.' Bobby yelled as loudly as he could not wanting to leave Sam's side.

Just a few moments ago they were talking and then Sam's eyes rolled back slightly and he collapsed bonelessly towards the floor. Suddenly his muscles started to twitch uncontrollably and his eyes rolled and moved rapidly under his eyelids.

'Bobby what is it?' Dean asked as he came to a sliding stop next to his fallen brother, 'what happened?'

'Dunno, Sam was talking one minute and then … this.' Bobby tried to explain, 'it's almost as if he's having a nightmare without being asleep.'

'Sam?' Dean cradled his brother's head on his lap and tenderly brushed sweat dampened strands of hair from his face.

'What the hell?' John spat out as he stood in the doorway and stared at his sons and friend, 'what happened to Sam?'

'Dunno yet John.' Bobby snapped back angry at his friend's apparent lack of empathy for his youngest son's suffering.

'Nnngghhh Dean?' Sam called out as he tried to sort out what was real and what was in the vision. 'Dean?'

'Sammy hey Sammy …' Dean said as he patted Sam's cheek, 'you with us?'

'Dean?' Sam opened his eyes slowly and winced at the brightness that assaulted his sensitive pupils. 'Wha' 'appened?'

'You tell us … you fainted like a girl.'

'I didn't faint.'

'Ahh yeah ya did Princess.' Dean smirked as he tenderly wrapped his arms around Sam's chest and waist and helped him to his feet. 'So what happened? What did ya see this time?'

'I'm not sure but …'

'Wait just a minute what do you mean this time?' John demanded glaring down at his two sons.

Sam bit his lip and pushed against his brother's chest, he was still shaky and dizzy from collapsing and didn't want to have another confrontation with his father, he twisted his fingers in the back of Dean's jacket and felt himself turn into a scared six year old again.

'I'll explain after Dad, just let me get Sam fixed first okay?' Dean stared at his father, locking gazes with him, 'I'll explain I promise.'

'Dean?' Sam whispered, 'sick.' Sam lifted his head enough to look up at his brother, his face was another shade paler than white, a smudge of drying blood from his nose stood out with garish intensity, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, 'gonna puke.'

'here,' Dean grabbed a trashcan and shoved it under Sam's chin while he guided him to the small ante-room adjacent to the main office. A narrow cot lined one wall, he moved his brother towards it, effectively ignoring the worried look on Bobby's face and growing thunder storm on his father's face as he settled Sam onto the cot.

'Dean … I saw … nnggghhh.' Sam tried to speak but instead hunched over the trashcan as he felt the burning bile erupt from his stomach.

'Dean front and centre now.' John ordered angrily, 'explain soldier.'

'Fine Dad … Sir you want an explanation Sir?' Dean spat back, 'Sam's been having visions.'

'What?'

'Sam has been having visions since September last year, normally featuring YED or something attached to him.' Dean regretted his tone and the way he broke the news to their father but his over-protectiveness of Sam fired up and he couldn't stop himself.

'Visions?' John blinked at his eldest in shock before turning his gaze to his stricken youngest who now lay on the cot, sweat drenched hair clumped around his pale face and with blood dribbling from his nose. 'Sammy?'

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**THEN:**

_'Dean front and centre now.' John ordered angrily, 'explain soldier.'_

_'Fine Dad … Sir you want an explanation Sir?' Dean spat back, 'Sam's been having visions.'_

_'What?'_

_'Sam has been having visions since September last year, normally featuring YED or something attached to him.' Dean regretted his tone and the way he broke the news to their father but his over-protectiveness of Sam fired up and he couldn't stop himself._

_'Visions?' John blinked at his eldest in shock before turning his gaze to his stricken youngest who now lay on the cot, sweat drenched hair clumped around his pale face and with blood dribbling from his nose. 'Sammy?'_

**NOW:**

He reads much;  
He is a great observer, and he looks  
Quite through the deeds of men.

(Julius Caesar 1.2.209)

S—D

Chapter Two

Sam took a deep breath and reluctantly put a hand on the handle of the bathroom door; he so wanted to stay in there hiding behind the warmth of the shower spray. He knew it was impossible he had one irate father waiting on the other side of the flimsy plywood door. He also knew that he had his "awesome" big brother Dean and "back-up" father in Bobby Singer to stand behind him but this was something he had to deal with on his own.

If he was honest with himself Sam knew that he had been having visions for much longer than even Dean knew about. The first he had was when he was only eight years old; his dad was attacked by a strange looking creature, a man that wasn't a man, in the eyes of an eight year old it was the stuff of nightmares; he also saw a book filled with scribbles and pictures and a lot of words in his dad's own handwriting. Two days later he found the journal of John Winchester – Hunter. His nightmare was no more it was a vision; his dad had staggered home from hunting a Wendigo.

Swallowing down on the rising bile from his unbidden childhood memory, Sam squared his shoulders and finally opened the door.

S—D

'So Dean when were you going to tell me about your brother?' John demanded his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on his whiskey glass.

'Dad … it – it was Sam's to tell you not me,' Dean finished feeling pathetic and low especially deflecting back onto Sam himself. 'I only found out about his visions a short time ago.'

'That is no excuse you know better than that, I'm your commanding officer it is your duty to tell me everything about your men and that includes your brother.'

'Yes Sir.' Dean spat out his anger briefly flaring before deflating under the intensity of his father's glare. 'Sam thought that they were dreams at first …'

'But then I started having them during the day and they come true.' Sam finished for his brother. Startled Dean, John and Bobby all turned around to see Sam leaning against the bathroom door jamb. Even after a hot shower he still looked washed out and ill, with red rimmed and watery eyes, pale faced with two bright red blotches on his cheeks and a sheen of perspiration glittering sickly in the artificial light. 'They always seem to involve the yellow eyed demon in one way or the other. That or … or family.' Sam gave Dean a wan smile of gratitude when he jumped up and helped him towards one of the chairs. He hadn't realised just how out of it he still felt.

'Sammy?' Dean pushed a glass of water at his brother, his eyes widening when Sam admitted about the visions of family. 'What do you mean family?'

'I ahh … I've had visions of you and dad and … Bobby …'

'When you've thrown a spanner in the works about a hunt that was because of a vision?' Dean asked, and for them just then they were alone in their own universe. Their father and Bobby no longer existed in their sphere of consciousness.

'Yeah, I'm sorry Dean but – but I thought acting as a brat was easier than trying to explain about …'

'Visions?'

'Yeah, I've seen all three of you die so many times in so many ways.'

'D-d-die? Did you say die?' Dean stammered out as the realisation flooded through him, although before he could say or do anything, there was a flash of flesh and muscle and Sam was suddenly pinned against a wall. A furious looking John Winchester had one arm locked under his throat constricting his airways and his other pressing against Sam's chest.

'Dad?' Sam choked out as he gasped for any tendril of air he could take in.

'Who are you and what have you done with my son?' John snarled his spittle spraying over Sam's whiter than white face.

'Dad please it's me.' Sam wept as the pressure against his throat grew and black spots danced in front of his eyes. 'Dad … Daddy?'

'Don't you dad me … what have you done with my son?' John pulled Sam away from the wall slightly and then slammed him back using his own impressive muscle bulk and weight against the slighter build of the teenager.

'For fuck's sake John let the boy go.' Bobby snapped out of his momentary stupor and launched himself at the younger man, 'get the fuck off him … he's yer son ya great idjit.'

'No … no he's not he's not my son.' John spat his eyes darkening to almost black as he let his rage burn through him, 'but he'll tell me in the end he'll break.'

'Dad, fuck dad you're killing him … you're killing Sammy.' Dean yelled as he joined Bobby in trying to extricate father from son.

Sam managed to roll his head in his brother's direction, heavy tear drops fell down his face splashing off his blue-tinged lips as his vibrant green eyes started to grow dull as the life force faded. 'Love you De-Dean.' Sam cried his voice barely audible, 'love you d-d-da…'

'Sammy!' Dean screamed as he watched Sam's eyes flutter shut and his body slump lifelessly trapped between the wall and the human mountain of John Winchester.

'What the fuck have you done John?' Bobby hissed, 'you've killed yer son.'

'No, no I haven't I've killed a thing a thing that was not my son.' John pushed away from the others and watched with a grim look of satisfaction as the lifeless body slid downwards to the floor but before he could do anything else a fist connected with his nose and then again against his jaw knocking him backwards.

'What the fuck … Singer what is wrong with you?'

'Yer bastard … you've just killed yer own son.' Bobby swung again this time ramming his fist into John's stomach winding him.

'Sammy?' Dean dropped to his knees next to his brother's still form and tenderly lifted him into his arms cradling his head against his chest as he desperately felt for a pulse, for any sign of life. 'Sammy don't you leave me, damn you Sammy please stay with me.' He held his breath as he pressed slightly harder against the frail flesh, 'dammit Bobby … Bobby there's a pulse. Sammy's still alive.'

Bobby finished trussing John up more for his own safety than for anyone else's before he gave Dean his full attention, 'you got a pulse?'

'Yeah … yeah we gotta get him breathing,' Dean tilted Sam's head back slightly and started to do resuscitation breathes for his little brother.

'What the fuck are you two doing? We should be working on finding out where Sam is … what they have done to Sam.' John bellowed as he strained against his bindings, spitting out a thick glob of blood from his split lip.

'For yer sake John shut the fuck up before I use buckshot on ya.' Bobby warned as he continued to help Dean with the CPR.

'Dean … son this thing is not your brother … he's not Sam.'

'He's breathing,' Dean whispered without caring if anyone had heard him, as he sat back and watched his teenaged brother fight for every life-saving breath. 'Thank God he's breathing Bobby.'

'Dean don't you ignore me.' John raged as he continued to free himself, 'I gave you an order.'

'Dean take yer brother and go … ring me when yer out of the town. Don't worry bout Chicago Caleb and the others can cope, Rufus has already left with the others to join up with Caleb.' Bobby spoke in short sharp orders as he managed to keep Dean's attention away from the ranting of the senior Winchester.

'What about?' Dean spared a quick glance at his father before giving Sam his full attention.

'I'll take care of him, you just take of yer brother here,' Bobby glanced down at the young boy cradled once again against his brother's chest, 'I'll pound some sense into yer father.'

'You know this is why Sam didn't want dad to know about the visions. He knew that dad would think of him as a freak. But – but to try and kill him?'

'Too much booze and not enough intelligence to cope with it all,' Bobby shook his head and stared at John over his shoulder, 'pig-headed idjit can't see the truth without tripping all over his ego first.'

'Dean … Dean son listen to me that is not your brother … Sam's not a psychic they swapped him with a – a doppelganger.'

With the help of Bobby Dean managed to get to his feet with Sam's semi-conscious body held possessively against his chest, 'thanks Bobby … we'll be in touch.'

'Yeah … I'd be interested in finding out what Sam's vision was about.'

'You leave with him Dean and I'll charge you with desertion … you'll be court-martialled.' John threatened when he looked up and locked gazes with Sam. The look of hurt, confusion and betrayal shining in the glassy green eyes of his youngest son suddenly silenced the man as his rage burnt itself out. _Am I wrong? Could that really be Sam? Psychic … a true psychic or did someone get to him? Oh God did I just try and kill my baby boy? How did he get … visions? What else can he do? Who did this to him? Can I trust Sam? Oh God I've lost my sons. _Despite his internal struggle John kept his game face on and gave no signs of emotion at all, no remorse or recognition for the teenager lying limply in his brother's arms, a vicious bruise already turning black and purple slashed across his throat, with a visual reminder of his own temper and ego.

S—D

Dean drove away from the barracks with steely determination; the tension in his shoulders and arms flooded through to his cramped hands as he white-knuckled the steering wheel. All he could see in front of him was his father trying to kill his little brother. A surreptitious glance to the passenger's seat gave him the reassurance that his brother was still alive, just alive but better than the alternative.

'Dean?' Sam managed to push his brother's name out, his voice hoarse and faint had him swallow painfully before trying again, 'D-Dean?'

'Sammy?' Dean slowed down and pulled into a trucker's stopping area and came to a stop deciding that it was a good time to give Sam a complete check up. 'How ya doin?'

'Hurts …' Sam admitted as he gingerly touched his bruised throat.

'Here's some water … careful just sip it.' Dean handed Sam the bottled water and then turned to face his sibling, his back resting against the door. 'How ya doing kiddo?'

Sam sipped the water and swallowed carefully the cool liquid helped to extinguish the fire in his throat, 'm'fine.'

'Uhhuh and I'm the Easter bunny.' Dean snorted, 'I ahh need to check for swelling to see if ya need to go to hospital.'

'No, no please …' the rest of Sam's plea faded with the last of his voice, instead he sat staring at the bottle of water in his hands a look of desolation and dejection etched across his face, his eyes watery as he tried to blink away the tears.

'So let me see and then we'll work it out,' Dean leant forward and gripped Sam's shoulder to make him turn back around. With a gentle touch he checked the bruised area cursing his father for everything he could think of as he realised just how close it all was. 'Not so badly swollen but you really should get checked out by a doctor.'

Sam shook his head and gave his older sibling is perfected bitch-face, 'no!' He mouthed.

'Alright no hospital but what about a clinic? Just to be sure that there's no damage to your vocal chords … then again if I don't have to listen to your whinging…'

Dean grinned when he saw the small smile play on Sam's lips and the voiceless laugh shake his shoulders, but he didn't miss the wince and Sam's hand move to his sternum. 'What Sam?' he asked as he carefully lifted Sam's layered T-shirts to check for any other injuries. A fist sized bruise marred the smooth expanse of skin, a dark spongy area that not only looked painful but radiated an odd heat for just a bruise. 'I'm gonna fucking kill him, dad or not.' Dean swore when he saw the damage John had caused.

S—D

Sam sat on the side of the exam gurney swinging his legs and tried to look as though he was suffering, especially when he saw the look in Dean's eyes and the determined stance he had while staring out the window of the small free clinic they had found in Castleton, a small rural town far from the interstate highway.

On the outside the town appeared to have survived the apocalypse unscathed but that was the surface only. Scratch that and the cracks appeared, the graveyard was almost overflowing with the recent dead, most victims of those who had contracted the Croatoan virus.

'So who do we have here?' both boys jumped slightly when they heard the new arrival speak and turned in unison to see a man about forty standing in the doorway, dressed in white lab coat and carrying a clipboard. With wire rimmed glasses and dark slicked back hair he gave the air of authority without being overbearing. 'I'm Doctor Richard Hicks but you can just call me Rick if you like.'

'M'Dean and that's my brother Sam.' Dean answered him as he visually appraised the doctor, 'Sam here fell in the bathroom and caught his throat on the edge of the basin, his throats swollen and he lost consciousness for a few minutes.' He explained as succinctly as possible, 'I'm afraid I bruised his chest when … when …' Dean's voice failed him as he saw the spongy bruise on Sam's chest.

'He saved my life.' Sam managed to get out in soft breathy tones.

'Okay let's see what we've got here then,' Rick Hicks was long past worrying about full truths when it came to his walk-in patients. 'You're very lucky Sam, it appears that you came very close to crushing your airways altogether.' Rick said as he looked down Sam's abused throat, 'okay I'm going to give you a shot to help reduce the swelling, and some antibiotics as well as some analgesic pain relief. I'm sorry that I can't give you something stronger but …'

'Yeah we understand doc.' Dean said taking his place next to Sam as the doctor had the teen lie down so he could check the chest bruising. He clearly paled when he was able to get a clearer view of the damage John did when he shoved Sam against the wall and held him there with an iron fist.

'Dean are you alright?' Rick asked when he saw the older brother pale significantly and start to sway, grabbing a chair for Dean he pushed him onto it before getting him to put his head between his knees. He felt the faint stirrings of curiosity start to bubble up but he clamped them down again.

'Dean?' Sam tried to climb off the gurney to get to his brother when everything started to blur and he could hear a loud buzzing as the world greyed out and he fell back against the pillow as unconsciousness took control.

'Owkay now the two of you are staying put,' Rick said as he crouched in front of Dean and made him drink some water, 'neither of you are in any condition to go anywhere.'

'Doc sorry but we've got to be in Chicago ASAP.' Dean ground out.

'You in the hunter's corps?' Rick looked up at his young patient and noticed the dog tags for the first time.

'Yeah we are,' Dean nodded wearily, 'we're supposed to be joining our platoon in Chicago.'

'Well you two are not going anywhere right away,' Rick said as he sat back and looked over at Sam, 'your brother needs x-rays for his chest and … I'm not casting any aspersions on either one of you but I know that the bruise was caused by a fist and brute force not by an attempt at CPR.'

'Look doc we …'

'No questions Dean, I just need to know if it was a fall that caused his throat injury or was it something or someone else?' Rick asked but the way Dean averted his gaze for a second and pulled himself together physically he knew that it was something a lot more serious than just a fall. 'Okay, so I'm gonna order some x-rays for his chest and throat just to be on the safe side. Since the … I have an x-ray machine here, the hospital was one of the first buildings to be destroyed. No one asks questions or makes many reports anymore, whatever happened to your brother is your business is that understood?'

'Yeah thanks Doc, sorry I dunno what happened just then.' Dean apologised with a slightly sheepish grin.

'No sleep and shock can get the strongest of us Dean don't worry about it,' Rick checked Sam's vitals while he talked and wrote copious amounts of notes on his ever present clipboard. 'So I'll go and order the x-rays, get the meds set up and have Debbie get something nice and hot for you to eat and some fresh coffee?'

'I like the way you think Doc.' Dean gave him a weary smile and then turned his attention to Sam. 'How is he Doc? Truthfully.'

'He's better than he should be, I'm going to set up an IV with some fluids and the meds in it … I don't want him talking too much until the swelling goes down oh there's one other thing does your brother suffer from migraines or bad headaches?'

'Huh? Why?'

'The way Sam's been wincing at bright light and squinting a lot … the closing of his eyes when he rolls his head are all indicative of migraine.'

'Yeah I … I never gave it much thought but yeah he does have really bad headaches.' Dean quickly ran through a mental catalogue of a history of Sam's headaches, the fact that they seemed to coincide with his visions didn't escape him either.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**THEN:**

_'Look doc we …'_

_'No questions Dean, I just need to know if it was a fall that caused his throat injury or was it something or someone else?' Rick asked but the way Dean averted his gaze for a second and pulled himself together physically he knew that it was something a lot more serious than just a fall. 'Okay, so I'm gonna order some x-rays for his chest and throat just to be on the safe side. Since the … I have an x-ray machine here coz the hospital was one of the first buildings to be destroyed. No one asks questions or makes many reports anymore, whatever happened to your brother is your business is that understood?'_

_'Yeah thanks Doc, sorry I dunno what happened just then.' Dean apologised with a slightly sheepish grin._

_'No sleep and shock can get the strongest of us Dean don't worry about it,' Rick checked Sam's vitals while he talked and wrote copious amounts of notes on his ever present clipboard. 'So I'll go and order the x-rays, get the meds set up and have Debbie get something nice and hot for you to eat and some fresh coffee?'_

_'I like the way you think Doc.' Dean gave him a weary smile and then turned his attention to Sam. 'How is he Doc? Truthfully.'_

_'He's better than he should be, I'm going to set up an IV with some fluids and the meds in it … I don't want him talking too much until the swelling goes down oh there's one other thing does your brother suffer from migraines or bad headaches?'_

_'Huh? Why?'_

_'The way Sam's been wincing at bright light and squinting a lot … the closing of his eyes when he rolls his head are all indicative of migraine.' _

_'Yeah I … I never gave it much thought but yeah he does have really bad headaches.' Dean quickly ran through a mental catalogue of a history of Sam's headaches, the fact that they seemed to coincide with his visions didn't escape him either._

**NOW:**

S—D

O hateful error, melancholy's child!  
Why dost thou show, to the apt thoughts of men,  
The things that are not?

(Julius Caesar 5.3.67)

Chapter three:

Bobby placed a glass of whiskey down on the table in front of John before he sat down and nursed his own drink while he stared at the other man, silence reigned between them as they were both lost in their own thoughts.

'So, you ready to talk?' Bobby asked finally breaking the tense standoff.

'About what?' John said his deep voice rough with his pent up emotions.

'Don't take me for a fool Winchester ya know damn well what.'

'I'm not talking about what happened Bobby, aint no time for chick flick moments if you haven't noticed we've got Armageddon going on.'

'Ya don't want to push me Johnny boy just shut jaw flapping excuses and tell me exactly what is going on. You tried to kill yer own son Winchester and if it wasn't for Dean's quick thinking …'

'You don't think I'm feeling guilt about that?' John swallowed his whiskey and revelled in the burning sensation as it slid down his throat.

'No don't think ya are, dammit Johnny you have to talk to someone and at the moment I'm all yer've got.'

John growled low and pushed himself out of his chair; he took two long strides to the window and stood staring at the barren landscape. It wasn't so long ago that he watched Dean and Sam training out there and then it all went to hell in one neat little package.

'I aint getting' any younger Winchester.' Bobby said as he poured out two more drinks.

'Yeah, yeah alright … I found out something a couple of years ago, something I didn't want to believe now I think it's happened.'

'Ah fuck why not be cryptic while yer at it, spit it out for heaven's sake John.' Bobby moved until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with John, roughly he gripped the younger man's arm and forced him to turn enough so that they were facing each other. 'Spit … It … Out!'

'When Mary … when Mary died the YED was standing at Sam's crib…'

'Yeah old news go on.'

'I ahh exorcised one of its minions a while ago and it told me a few things about what happened that night and why.' John turned to stare out the window again, watching the grey storm clouds gathering on the horizon. 'The YED was … is … trying to compile a group of what he called "special" children.'

'Geeze it's like pulling teeth with ya, get with it John.' Bobby snapped when the younger man fell silent again, a tight ball of stress was starting to form in his stomach and he was torn in how much more he wants to know and how much he wants to stay ignorant of.

'YED marks the kids with his blood, he feeds them his blood and enhances any latent psychic gifts they might have or helps to create them. Sam was one of these kids … YED bled into his mouth, and now well now he's been getting visions. At first I thought it was a doppelganger that someone had swapped my son for something, some creature but now, now I know that it was Sam … he was compromised as a child and is on his way to become…'

'Become what a demon child?' Bobby spat out the word in utter disbelief at his friend, 'my God John listen to yourself Sam is the last person you could ever consider to be evil, he aint got an evil bone in his entire body … as big as it is.'

'I didn't want to think it but it's happening Bobby, you saw it for yourself.'

'What I saw was a kid having a terrifying seizure, a vision that terrified him and a bastard of a father who tried to kill him.'

'It's not Sam anymore.'

'He's more human than you are John.'

'Admit it Bobby … you'd hunt him down like any of the creatures if he wasn't Sam.'

'Listen to yerself ya freaking idjit … Sam is yer son, he's Mary's boy … and you just called him a creature.'

A moment later John Winchester found himself sprawled out on the floor with a furious Bobby Singer standing over him rubbing his aching knuckles; a second or two later and he felt blood trickle down his chin from his split lip the pain registered in his mind immediately after. 'What the hell Bobby?'

'Ya realise yer've just yer sons, both of em. Yer perfect little soldiers are gone and yer'll never get em back not until ya change yer thinking and accept yer son for who he is and not what you say he is.'

'You finished Singer?' John asked as he slowly pulled himself up to rest against the wall, 'I know it's not Sam's fault but we can't risk having one of YED's special children in our ranks.'

'That's it Winchester I've had it. Sam is your son. Not YED's or anyone else's he's yours and Mary's boy. What the hell do you think she'd say about the way yer're acting?' Bobby shook his head and turned to walk out of the room, he knew that if he stayed he would be unable to control his own temper and fists.

'Don't you walk away from me Singer,' John said as he stood up and straightened his shoulders, 'I am your commanding officer.'

'Ya can take yer commanding officer self and shove it where the sun don't shine … ya fuckin' great idjit. Don't come after me Winchester or yer'll find yerself full-o-buckshot!' Bobby slammed the door behind him as he strode out of the building and out of the hunter's corps.

S—D

Dean chewed his thumbnail while he waited for Sam to finish dressing, the scans and x-rays had come back clear, he'd be bruised and sore for quite a while but there was no permanent damage done to his throat or his chest. Silently Dean thanked whatever entity was listening to him at least Sam was going to be okay, physically at least.

'You okay Dean?' Sam asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, his voice although hoarse and soft sounding still carried to his brother's ear.

'Huh? Oh yeah Sammy just itching to get on the road.'

'You're worried about Rufus and Caleb and the others aren't you?' Sam asked his face a mask of guilt and concern.

'Nope just wondering when we're gonna get something to eat … I'm starving!' Dean said as he joined his younger brother, 'you ready to kick this popsicle stand?'

'Yeah I guess.'

'Excellent the doc is on his way back with your paperwork and meds then we're ready to go.' Dean said just as his cell phone started ringing.

'Go and answer it Dean I'll wait for the doc.' Sam offered, 'I won't go anywhere without you.'

'Promise?' Dean asked holding the phone with his thumb hovering over the answer button.

'Answer it Dean.' Sam sighed as he sat down to wait for Doctor Hicks.

S—D

'This had better be fucking important.' Dean snapped into the phone as he strode out of the clinic.

'Dean? What's up man? I can't get hold of yer daddy or Bobby and yer sounding as though ya ready to kill someone.' Caleb's voice came through the receiver.

'Shit Caleb … sorry we've got a few problems what's going on?'

'Chicago … man we were too late.' Caleb started and then paused for a moment to compose himself. 'Dude the bogies are gone but … man it's worse than we imagined.'

'What is it Caleb? What's …?'

'We found a school dude, a school full of kids … just little kids hell half of em didn't even look old enough to be at school.' Caleb sniffed and cleared his throat, 'they massacred them Dean … little kids all trapped in their rooms and the blood…'

'Caleb get the men together and get the hell outta there, head back to command…'

'We've barely covered any … Chicago is a big place dude … we've got too much to go over before bugging out.'

'Get outta there Caleb that's an order, you need to track the demonic signs.'

'What's wrong dude?' Caleb asked as he heard that strange lilt to Dean's tone, 'what's happened … where's Sam?'

'Ahh Sam's with me Caleb it's better if you don't know what's … where we are right now.' Dean said as he watched the entrance to the clinic carefully, his well-honed senses and demon-radar were heightened as he watched the few people left start their new day in a nightmarish world.

'Dean?'

'Sorry Cal thought I saw something, look I've gotta get going, get Rufus and the others and book outta Chicago dude it's not worth the worry they're long gone.'

'We'll finish up our recon and then meet ya back at command…'

'Ahh I'll be in touch with ya Cal … we're … me and Sam won't be at command for a while.'

'What did John do now?' Caleb asked a resigned note to his voice.

'Dunno whatcha mean dude.'

'Dean we all know what a bastard John is to you two boys, especially Sam…'

'He's your CO Caleb have some respect.'

'Yeah and he's your dad Dean he should have some respect for you guys.'

'Look it's nothing just a misunderstanding … Dad's dad and he's under a lot of pressure at the moment, hell we all are and he's also got the responsibility of the corps and finding the monsters.'

'So you're still his mop-up kid huh?' Caleb said and Dean could see the eye roll that accompanied the question.

'I've gotta go, I'll be in touch.' Dean said as he closed the connection and pocketed his phone.

He stood for a moment scanning the area for any signs of danger before going back into the clinic to find Sam. All of a sudden Dean felt bone deep exhaustion seep in and his shoulders sagged slightly as he went back inside.

S—D

They had been driving towards Blue Earth Minnesota for about two hours in silence, Sam rested his head against the cool glass of his window and watched the barren landscape blur as they sped past.

The once lush green fields and forests were decimated; trees were now blackened skeletons covering the hills and valleys. Farms were ruins sitting amidst fields of crops, ripe for the picking and now rotting where they grew. A plaintive mewl sounded through the deafening silence startling Sam out of his stupor.

'Dean stop the car,' he rasped as he sat up and stared out of his window in earnest searching for the origin of the sound.

'Sammy … what the?'

'Please Dean just stop.' Sam begged his brother, giving him the full on puppy dog eyes he was famous for as a child.

Swearing under his breath Dean pulled over to the edge of the road, he had barely time to turn the motor off when Sam opened the door and almost tumbled out onto the road. 'Sam what the hell are you doing?'

Sam scrambled to his feet and then lurched towards the mewling sound coming from a paddock on the other side of the two-lane road. 'I'm coming hang on.'

'Sam! Sammy what the hell is going on?' Dean demanded as he tried to catch up with his brother and his freakishly long strides. His concern for his younger brother went through the roof when Sam disappeared from his view. 'Sammy!' Breaking into a sprint Dean skidded through the brush and broken fences only coming to a stop when he saw his brother's huddled form just ahead of him.

'Sam?' he spoke quietly so he didn't startle his already skittish sibling, 'what's going on dude?'

'It's too late Dean, I'm always too late.' Sam whispered, 'too late for anything.'

'Sam you're not making sense dude what's going on?' Dean crouched down next to the teen, 'ahh Sammy.'

Just in front of Sam and lying facedown was a small boy, his blue eyes open and fixed, his cupid-bowed lips open slightly in surprise and his once blond hair was matted with dirt and blood. Next to the little corpse was a black and white border collie with its muzzle resting on a bent arm, another pain-filled mewl came from the young dog as it turned mournful and dull eyes towards the Winchester brothers too weak to do anything else.

'Why Dean?' Sam turned to look at his brother, 'why do this to a little kid?'

'I dunno Sammy, they're demons, and they're pure evil …'

'But he's just a little kid,' Sam said as he reached out and tenderly stroked the dirty blond hair, 'we can't leave him here like this Dean.'

'I know Sammy, why don't you go back to the car? I'll look after them for ya.'

'No, no Dean I can do it.'

'Sam please dude let me … the dog … it's dying Sammy it's too weak and in pain … let me do it.' Dean guided his brother back towards the car, 'Sam how did you hear the dog?'

'Dunno I just heard it … he couldn't even bark just heard that sound.' Sam said dully, 'I don't understand why target kids Dean? What did that little boy do to deserve dying that way?'

'I honestly don't know Sammy, here you wait here with the car, and I'll be as quick as I can.' Dean moved to the trunk and quickly loaded a few things into a bag and grabbed the shovel before running back towards the child's body. As quickly as humanly possible Dean dug a shallow grave before he picked up the boy and placed him into the hole. His face darkening with anger when he saw the damage done, it was as though something had started to eat the child's flesh, a gaping and ragged hole had been ripped into the small abdomen exposing what was left of his internal organs. Dean gagged and swallowed deeply, all he could see was Sam at that age and before he could do anything else, Dean found himself on his knees emptying the meagre contents of his stomach.

By the time he was ready to get the dog, the pitiful beast had already died a soft snuffling breath and then nothing, gently he lowered the animal into the grave and rested it against his young master's side. At least they'd be together; finally he salted the bodies and tipped gasoline over them before dropping a lit match. Even though the boy would have been about seven years old, Dean didn't want to run the risk of anything reusing that fragile little body.

Dirty, tired and emotionally drained Dean finally made his way back to the impala; he could see Sam leaning against the side of the car watching the horizon intently, waiting for him, his posture rigid and demeanour watchful. 'Ahh dammit Sammy.'

S—D

The roar of the powerful engine announced the arrival of the impala and it's occupants into the quiet of the evening. A porch light came on and a solitary figure watched as the headlights grew closer and the roaring became louder; with a cloud of dust billowing from the back wheels the sleek black car came to a sudden stop outside the house.

With a slight limp he went to greet his latest guests; the guests he would never say no to, 'Dean … Sam it's good to see the two of you.' He greeted the young brothers warmly, a big smile spread across his craggy features.

'Good to see you too Pastor Jim.' Dean said as he shook hands with the cleric though when he stepped back he remained slightly in front of his younger brother.

'Hey Pastor Jim.' Sam said hoarsely a small smile flickered across his lips before disappearing again.

'Oh dear Lord Samuel look at you.' Jim's eyes widened in shock when he saw the raw and painful looking bruises adorning the teenager's throat, 'come in you two, Mrs Sanders has made a stew and mash for supper.'

'Sounds good … Sammy you okay?' Dean turned around to look at his sibling.

'Yeah m'kay.' Sam replied as he followed Dean inside his fingers ghosting along the hem of Dean's jacket.

S—D

Jim sat and watched as Dean virtually inhaled the home cooked meal and as Sam picked at his, swallowing minute amounts, each swallow was accompanied by a wince. He poured coffee for both himself and Dean and an all-milk hot chocolate for Sam after they had finished their meal and led the way to the living room.

Dean gratefully took the steaming hot cup of black coffee and sipped at it carefully, he couldn't remember the last time he had had a chance to drink real coffee. 'Mmm good coffee Pastor Jim.'

'Thanks Dean, how is your chocolate Sam not too hot?'

'It's great thanks Pastor Jim.'

'Alright, now you're fed and warm … enough of the Pastor Jim stuff both of you are now old enough to call me Jim,' their family friend chuckled softly, 'so what is going on? Dean?'

Dean looked over at Sam for a moment, and then returned his attention to Jim, 'we ahh need somewhere to lay low for a while.'

'You know that you're safe here, we're on hallowed ground and my house is protected nothing can get in.'

'Yeah ahh this time it aint a demon we're staying away from.'

'What has your father done now?' Jim asked and then turned a shocked look towards Sam, 'oh dear Lord … did your father hurt you Sam?'

'Tell him Dean,' Sam whispered unable to meet the steady gaze of Jim Murphy, instead he concentrated on his hot drink.

'Sam … you sure?' Dean asked but when he saw Sam's barely perceptible nod he sighed and cleared his throat, 'it's a long story Jim.'

'I'm listening.' Jim sat back and sipped at his coffee as he waited for his young visitors to open up to him.

S—D

Jim took some clean towels up to the bedroom the Winchester brothers had shared since Sam's infancy. He stood in the doorway and watched as Dean checked on his sleeping brother's breathing, he cleared his throat softly and waited for the younger man to turn around and acknowledge him. 'I brought you two some towels for the morning.'

'Thanks Pastor … thanks Jim.' Dean said wearily as he sat down on his own bed and scrubbed at his face with the heels of his palms, 'he's exhausted.'

'You can stay here for as long as you like Dean, both of you are welcome and safe.'

'Thanks Jim … I'm sure that when dad calms down…' Dean chuckled derisively, 'yeah when.'

'I'm sure that he will, you know your father Dean he acts without thinking of the consequences.'

'I know … but Sam comes first Jim before anything and that includes the war and the hunters' corps.' Dean said, 'and well before what dad thinks … damn it Jim he nearly killed his own son.'

'I know son … try and get some sleep it will all seem better in the morning.'

S—D

'What is it?' John Winchester barked into his cell phone, 'it had better be freaking important.'

'It's Jim Murphy John we have to talk.'

'Listen Jim I haven't got time right now, Rufus and Caleb were ambushed just outside Chicago and my son has decided to go AWOL.'

'Son? I was under the impression that you had two sons John.' Jim said mildly.

'What the hell do you want Jim?'

'To talk about your sons … Both of them but not while you're like this John Winchester.'

'Don't go there Preacher you have no idea what you're talking about.' John growled and swigged another mouthful from his whiskey bottle, 'Dean knows what he did.' He added before disconnecting the call.

Jim sat staring at the now silent phone in his hand and tried to compose himself before he faced the brothers, taking a deep breath he slipped down onto his knees and prayed. A golden hue of light beams floated around him as the sun rose above the small church adjacent to the rectory and shone through his bedroom window. The soft cotton curtains shifted in the light breeze as the light bathed the preacher in a warm healing light.

S—D

Spittle sprayed across Caleb's face as his captor leant in close; stroking a cold, clammy finger down his cheek, 'where are the Winchester brothers?' It demanded again striking the hunter's face viciously, 'talk hunter or die.'

'Can't tell ya what I don't know … and I don't know any Winchester brothers.' Caleb said as he met the black eyes with a steady stare, 'kill me or not aint gonna make any difference.'

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**Then:**

_Spittle sprayed across Caleb's face as his captor leant in close; stroking a cold, clammy finger down his cheek, 'where are the Winchester brothers?' It demanded again striking the hunter's face viciously, 'talk hunter or die.'_

_'Can't tell ya what I don't know … and I don't know any Winchester brothers.' Caleb said as he met the black eyes with a steady stare, 'kill me or not aint gonna make any difference.'_

**Now:**

S—D

Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,  
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,  
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;  
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,  
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.

(Julius Caesar 1.3.93)

Chapter Four:

Dean sat up and stared around trying to work out what had woken him in the first place. The parsonage was so quiet it was unnerving; the only discernable sounds Dean could make out were the occasional creaking of the aged house itself or the wind moving through the trees nearest the windows. As he concentrated a little more he could hear movement coming from the other bedroom and he knew instinctively that Pastor Jim was starting to move around so it must be close to dawn and then he realised what had woken him: he couldn't hear Sam. 'Sammy?' He whispered as loudly as he dared without causing panic, 'Sammy dude you awake?'

Sliding his feet out of the warmth from his bed, Dean cringed slightly when his toes hit the cold floor boards but his concern for his brother soon outweighed his own discomfort and he reached for the bedside lamp as he finished climbing out from under his blankets. 'Sammy this had better be worth it.' He muttered as he glared down at the empty bed next to his.

Taking an extra second to pull on his warm socks Dean crept out of the bedroom and started to do a quick but thorough search of the house, taking care not to disturb Jim.

Standing in the kitchen Dean was ready to call an all out alert and panic attack when he noticed a flickering light through the window. Moving in an almost trancelike sluggishness he stood by the kitchen sink and stared out of the window; in the pre-dawn dark he could see the outlines of several of the buildings on the property including one in particular. 'Ah Sam.' He said as he realised where his errant little brother had disappeared to; shaking his head Dean checked his gun and ammo before pulling on his boots and a heavy outdoor coat on his way out. Making sure that he had another coat for Sam knowing so well that his brother wouldn't have thought of something as menial as his own comfort and warmth.

The yard from the parsonage to the church was normally a warm and welcoming place where the Winchester brothers had always had a small feeling of home and safety as they grew up but in the dark, with long black shadows and the wind whispering through the trees and buildings it gave a more sinister and threatening feel to it.

As quietly as he could Dean pulled the heavy oak door open and stepped into the small, ornate church. The massive stained glass window above the altar cast a rainbow of colours in the pre-dawn light. Dean walked slowly down the central aisle, as his eyes became used to the softer light he fixed his gaze firmly on his brother. Sam sat on the first pew; the early morning sunlight filtering through the stained glass bathed him with a golden halo and gave him an angelic appearance.

Dean cleared his throat slightly as he took a seat next to Sam and placed a gentle hand on his arm, 'hey kiddo whatcha doing?'

'Just thinking,' Sam replied quietly he glanced up when he felt his brother's presence and then let his gaze drop to his hands on his knees once again. 'Sorry I didn't want to wake you.'

'How long have you been here Sammy?'

'Dunno a few hours I guess.' Sam replied as he chanced another quick glance at his brother's face to gauge his reaction.

'A few … okay why?' Dean tried to stay calm as he watched Sam carefully, there was something unintelligible about the way Sam was acting and it was starting to fray on Dean's nerves.

'I needed to think and didn't want to wake you or Pastor Jim up.'

'Bang up job you did there kiddo, I woke when I couldn't hear your snoring.'

'Don't snore.'

'Ah yep you do,' Dean said with a small grin, 'here put this on before you catch you death.' He passed the coat to Sam and watched his sibling carefully while he put it on, ever vigilant for signs of injury or pain. 'So what were ya thinking of?'

'Dad,' Sam said as he wrapped the large think coat around his thin frame, 'do you think that dad will…?'

'Will what Sam?' Dean studied his brother's pale face, his worry ramping up when he saw the tears forming in Sam's luminous green eyes. 'Sammy what is it?'

'Do you think that dad will ever forgive me?' Sam whispered before shaking his head and scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands, 'sorry I'm tired, come on before Pastor Jim thinks that you've finally seen the light.'

S—D

A sleek mass of black metal and silver chrome glided through the night, with barely any traffic to take it on it had the roadways to itself and time ticked faster than the miles on the speedometer. The driver chugged back whiskey laced black coffee from a thermos and kept a dangerously focussed stare on the road ahead. On an odd occasion he glanced over at the countryside as it blurred past but for the most part he kept his focus on the road. His mind was another thing though; thoughts raced through his mind and collided with his memories and emotions giving him an almighty headache.

He could still feel the soft throat under his hands, how easy it was to squeeze the life from, how easy it was to dismiss the owner of the said throat. Taking another gulp of the coffee mix he roared with impotent frustration and took a bend too fast. With lightning fast reflexes he managed to tame the beast he drove and righted it before pulling off to the side and scrambling out of the cab. With his temper raging through him he took it out on a hapless tree, punch after punch until blood sprayed from the wrecked knuckles and bones ground together. Panting heavily, he looked up at the star filled sky and tried to imagine another time, a more peaceful loving time with a young couple and their two baby boys. 'Dammit, why my boys? Why my baby?' he roared, 'what the hell did I do to deserve this?'

With no answer coming he lurched towards the driver's side door, starting the beast up again he drove off with a cloud of dust and stones behind him; his destination once again fixed firmly in his mind, his shoulders set he had to get this done the only way he knew how.

S—D

Dean instinctively moved in front of Sam when they heard the sound of an engine roaring up the road towards the parsonage. Frowning Dean grabbed Sam's arm and tried to hurry his brother towards the house and relative safety. The dawn's light had finally broken over the church and outbuildings giving the yard a safer but still barren feel to it. The sound of the car getting closer set Dean's demon hackles to rise and he instinctively pulled his gun releasing the safety as he moved.

Sam stumbled slightly in the brighter light he felt off balance and displaced but he remained silent while trailing after his older brother. The sense of urgency radiating from Dean was the first indicator for Sam to focus more on what was happening, the sound of the engine and the change in atmosphere was all he needed to completely respond, by rote but it was the exact response needed by a well trained soldier.

Moving as one unit the boys continued to move towards the house, while both watched and listened for anymore signs of danger. A large dark cloud seemed to coalesce above them bringing with it an impending feeling of dread for both of the boys. 'Run Sam.' Dean yelled as the cloud smothered the sun and once again the yard was cast in darkness and shadows.

The winds picked up until they whipped around their vulnerable limbs, tangling them in an almost deliberate fashion sending Dean crashing to his knees just as they reached the back porch.

'Dean!' Sam yelled terrified when he saw his brother fall for apparently no reason, scrambling through the sudden dust cloud Sam felt his brother's arm and tried to pull him up and to run at the same time.

'Get outta here Sammy.' Dean tried to push his brother away but Sam refused to give up and finally they were once again fighting against the wind, dust and turmoil blocking them from the house.

They could hear someone shouting at them, and then a hissing sound filled the air along with ear-splitting screams drowning out the winds. With the small respite in the assault the brothers managed to get to the porch and safety behind the wards and sigils discretely placed around the outside of the house.

A large black truck emerged through the chaotic scene bursting through the last of the unnatural twisters attacking the small church and rectory. The driver lunged from the truck armed and shooting at the black cloud as he ran, the salt rounds dispersing the oily black components of the clouds sending them backwards and away from their intended targets.

'What the hell are you doing here dad?' Dean yelled as he pushed Sam ahead of him into the house.

'Dammit I'm still your father boy, you show me some respect.' John yelled back as he slammed the door behind him, breathlessly he stared at his sons and then at his friend, 'Jim.'

'What are you doing here John?' Jim asked as he set down his own weapons and exorcism paraphernalia on the table.

'I need to talk to the boys, and yes I mean both of them.' John admitted although he still couldn't look Sam in the eye, 'but first care to let me in on what just happened?'

'It was my fault,' Sam said moving back and away from his father, 'they came here for me.'

'No not true … hang on what?' Dean started to deny Sam's claim and then his words hit home and Dean turned to face his brother, 'what do you mean Sammy?'

'I – I had a dream and that's why …'

'Why you were in the church?'

'Yeah.' The two boys spoke in quiet almost intimate tones as though they were the only ones present. 'I couldn't … let you and Jim get hurt.'

'So you thought what Sam?' Dean asked more harshly than he intended and immediately regretted his tone when he saw Sam shrink back even more, 'what about the dream Sam?'

'A demon had Caleb … hurting him and then sent others to get you … I couldn't let them take you Dean.'

'Wait what do you mean a demon had Caleb how did you know that Sam?' John asked breaking the self-imposed bubble around the boys.

'Dad!' Dean growled out the warning but John was moving towards a terrified Sam, 'dammit dad back off.'

John blinked and stared down at Dean's restraining hand and then at the pale face of his youngest son, 'Sam I'm not going to hurt you … I – I just …'

'Just what dad?' Dean asked his protective instincts overriding his respect and natural fear of his militaristic father.

'I got reports that Caleb and Rufus were ambushed on their way back from Chicago … that's why I'm here.'

'M'not leaving Sammy.'

'Not asking you to, but I need to know what Sam knows.' John said as he watched his youngest carefully, 'I need to know more about your … visions Sam.'

'Why? You didn't want to know before … hell dad you tried to strangle him and accused him of being a monster.' Dean continued to rant at his father; his own protective streak for his little brother overrode any thought to his own safety.

'It's okay Dean,' Sam said as he slowly lifted his gaze to meet his father's, 'what do you want to know dad?'

'I think that before we do anything we should go and sit down, Samuel looks like he is ready to fall down,' Jim said his quiet but firm voice carried the weight he intended and both Dean and John managed to look contrite enough without losing their Winchester machismoness.

Sam giggled at the sight as he went to sit down in the living room; it wasn't long before he was joined by the others all armed with warm drinks and thick slices of toast.

They ate in companionable silence, although Dean couldn't help but sneak glances at his father as he tried to get into the older man's head and thinking. He was divided in the way he felt and it was really starting to annoy him; part of him wanted John to embrace Sam and to apologise for the earlier misunderstanding and that he accepted Sam for who he was visions and all but the other part of him wanted to take Sam and run, that he didn't trust his father and Sam was just a tool in his father's arsenal.

'Dean?' Sam tried for a third time to gain his brother's attention but Dean seemed to be deep in thought about something, with a small sigh and the beginning of a grin Sam decided for a more upfront and direct approach. Leaning forward slightly he cupped his hand and swiped the back of Dean's head a soft giggle gave away any signs of malice but the look of shock on his brother's face had him laughing out loud.

'Dammit Sammy what the?' Dean blustered but when he saw the smile in Sam's eyes and heard the laughter coming from him Dean chuckled along with him and gave him a swat of his own. 'What's up kiddo?'

'You were miles away, I tried to get your attention three times dude what's going on?' Sam asked as his giggles slowly subsided, 'you okay?'

'M'fine ya little bitch … so dad what did you want to find out?'

'Sam I – I have had time to think about what happened … and some rather persuasive arguments made …' John admitted ruefully as he rubbed his still bruised chin, 'I made some mistakes and well should never have treated you like I did.'

'That's okay dad it's all in the past now.' Sam said blushing profusely; he wanted to believe his dad so much but something deep down inside of him yelled at him to be careful and not to believe. Confused he watched John carefully for any signs of impending trouble or betrayal.

'I've been having dreams lately that come true.'

'Can you tell me about them?' John leaned forward as he spoke his hands clasped in front and an earnest look in his eyes as he listened closely to what Sam was saying. Jim and Dean traded looks as John acted more and more out of character. 'When did you start having them?'

'I ahh don't remember exactly but they seem to have been getting more intense over the last six months. They seem to be getting stronger I guess, I mean I get really bad headaches and sometimes nosebleeds.'

'And the seizures … don't forget them Sam.' John added, 'I am so sorry for the way I acted I should have been more … father-like.'

'Who are you and what have you done with my father?' Dean asked his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he suddenly got up and moved to stand between John and Sam. 'Christo.'

John hissed as his eyes flashed a deep red, 'you little shit.'

'Where's my dad?' Dean demanded as he pulled out his glock and took aim at John's chest, 'who are you?'

'I'm your father you snivelling little shit.' John cocked his head and smiled coldly, 'you need to show me respect.'

'No I show my father the respect he deserves you … you only need to see this and to get the hell outta this house.'

'Now, now that is not a nice way to speak to your dear daddy,' John's eyes flashed again and suddenly Dean was flying backwards crashing into the floor to ceiling bookcase; in the briefest of seconds he was the base of a mountain of books and wooden shelves.

'Dean!' Sam cried out as Jim went to attack John, with an air of bored distraction and another flick of the wrist John sent Jim flying backwards out of the room and down the hallway.

'Sorry Preacher but there aint any need for preaching in here for now,' John laughed as he turned and fixed a fiery red stare on the youngest Winchester; 'now Sam, it's time you and I had a nice long talk.'

'Leave my dad alone!' Sam cried out as he tried to protect his unconscious brother and to keep an eye on the demon riding his dad's body. 'Get outta his body!'

'Sorry kiddo can't do that, but I can do this…' John flicked his finger and Sam found himself seated and unable to move, 'just wait for me for just a tic and then we're gonna have some father and son bonding time.'

S—D

Groaning in pain Caleb rolled over and tried to sit up, after two attempts he finally managed to rest his head against the wall as he pulled his knees up towards his chest in a vain attempt to ease the pull on his abused and bruised abdomen and chest area. Once he was sure that he wasn't going to fall down again Caleb slowly opened his eyes and tried to focus on his surroundings. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness he was able to make out his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a basement crossed with an old-time dungeon. Cages lined two of the walls, all of them were floor to ceiling in height and about four feet square, the wall under the stairs held a rack of various tools of torture and beneath the small window was a rack of assorted whips and scourges. The air in the room was thick with the stench of blood, burnt flesh and sulphur. A surgical-like table stood just off the centre of the room under the only light source.

Caleb ran his tongue over his cracked lips and regarded the can of water in his cage suspiciously; he was so thirsty but could he trust them not have tampered with it. 'Fuck it!' He couldn't ignore the thirst tearing his insides apart anymore. With a shaking hand he slowly picked it up and raised the can to his mouth. The rancidness of the water made him dry retch as soon as he took a tentative sip but he continued to gulp it down. He had to do something to ease the dryness and thirst. He had only dropped the now empty can a few seconds ago when the cramps set in. Crying out in agony, Caleb curled in on himself as the pain exploded in his stomach; tears ran down his face as he tried to control his breathing and to manage the pain.

'Damn … fuck … shit … bastards!' Caleb cussed as he banged his forehead against the floor.

'Cal?'

'Rufus? Fuck … fuck … don't drink the water!'

'Ah yeah been there done that.' Rufus chuckled as he leaned against the bars of his cage and tried to reach his friend and comrade. 'How you doin' over there anyways?'

'Yeah peachy, gotta recommend this place dude, party central or what.' Caleb rasped as the cramps slowly eased. 'The others?'

'They took Max upstairs just after they dropped ya back in the cage, I ahh heard Tim before but there's been no sign …'

'What about you Rufus?'

'Me? Ah I'm doing great … yep I just wish that Singer was here to enjoy it all with us.'

'I'm sure that he would love that!' Caleb choked on a chuckle and coughed up a small ball of bloodied phlegm. 'Ah shit that aint good.'

'No shit Sherlock!' Rufus strained against the bars as he tried to reach for his ailing friend, 'Caleb come on man talk to me.'

'Hurts Rufus … man this sucks.'

'Never short of the obvious are ya?'

Before Caleb could answer the door at the top of the stairs swung open bathing the basement in a harsh bright light. Hissing in pain Rufus crab crawled backwards his light sensitive eyes watering from the sudden assault of brightness, he pushed hard against the bars and hated himself for that and the fact that he had no way of taking control of the situation. 'Leave him alone you bastards.' He called out when he saw them dragging a semi-conscious man towards the table, 'dammit he's nearly dead already.'

'You want to take his place Hunter?' One of the demonically possessed men came to stand in front of Rufus' cage. 'I can multi-task.'

'Shut up ya idjit,' The injured hunter spat the words out in a shower of spittle and blood making Rufus react before he thought of the consequences.

'Singer? What the? How the hell did they get you, you old coot?' Rufus slammed himself against the bars and strained to reach out to the new arrival.

'Keep it up and you will join your friend on the rack.' Their guard snarled as he forced Bobby into a cage on the opposite side of the room. Smiling evilly he opened the door to Rufus' cage and with inhuman strength pulled the hunter out and tossed him onto the table, 'decided that you're gonna be the entrée.'

'Rufus!' Bobby pushed himself up only to collapse on his shattered knees, 'shit, shit, shit Caleb you here too?'

'Yeah man what happened how did they get ya?'

'Smashed into the car, it was a set up.' Bobby spat out the words, 'tell ya Caleb there's a mole as big as …' Rufus' scream silenced Bobby as they both concentrated on their friend and both internally raged at their inability to help him.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

Then:

_'Shut up ya idjit,' The injured hunter spat the words out in a shower of spittle and blood making Rufus react before he thought of the consequences._

_'Singer? What the? How the hell did they get you, you old coot?' Rufus slammed himself against the bars and strained to reach out to the new arrival._

_'Keep it up and you will join your friend on the rack.' Their guard snarled as he forced Bobby into a cage on the opposite side of the room. Smiling evilly he opened the door to Rufus' cage and with inhuman strength pulled the hunter out and tossed him onto the table, 'decided that you're gonna be the entrée.'_

_'Rufus!' Bobby pushed himself up only to collapse on his shattered knees, 'shit, shit, shit Caleb you here too?'_

_'Yeah man what happened how did they get ya?'_

_'Smashed into the car, it was a set up.' Bobby spat out the words, 'tell ya Caleb there's a mole as big as …' Rufus' scream silenced Bobby as they both concentrated on their friend and both internally raged at their inability to help him._

Now:

Between the acting of a dreadful thing  
And the first motion, all the interim is  
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:  
The genius and the mortal instruments  
Are then in council; and the state of man,  
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then  
The nature of an insurrection.

(Julius Caesar 2.1.63)

S—D

Chapter Five:

Dean moaned and tried to move but for some reason he was unable to something heavy seemed to be pinning him down. Groggily he shook his head and immediately regretted it as the dull headache spiralled into a bone-splitting pain without let up. 'Sam?' He called out but his voice sounded barely louder than a whisper above the ringing in his head. Ringing?

'Argh Sam?' He yelled again although this time he triggered a painful coughing fit, growling in frustration Dean tried to move again but he was pinned tight against the floor. As his awareness grew, Dean wished he was unconscious again as he realised that he was pinned under one of Jim's heavy bookcases. 'Jim?' He called out when there was no answer from Sam, 'fuck someone answer me!'

'No need for foul language Dean Winchester,' Jim chided him as he crouched awkwardly in front of the fallen young hunter, 'unless of course you wish to stay there?'

'No, no sorry Pastor Jim, promise I …argh that … that hurts!' Dean yelped as Jim managed to shift the heavy case enough for him to try and scramble free. 'Ah fuuudging… freaking… fudging!' Dean bit down on his lower lip as he finally dragged himself free. 'Sammy?'

'He's gone Dean I am so sorry … I didn't know … I allowed John to come in without doing the proper tests.'

'Not your fault Jim,' Dean pushed the words out as he tried to sit up and then he saw the damage done to his right knee. 'Ah hell ….' Dean paled and swallowed deeply.

'Stay still son while I go and find the first aid kit … stay still Dean.'

'Aint going nowhere Jim.' Dean slurred slightly as he stared up at Jim with glassy green eyes, 'hey Pastor did ya know yer've got a twin?'

'Stay put Dean!' Jim warned as he hurried away, worried now that Dean was suffering a severe concussion as well as a shattered knee and not counting any other internal injuries.

'Only the Winchesters…' he muttered as he ran his fingers through his thinning grey hair and gathered up all of the medical supplies he could find. 'Dean!' he yelled when he ran back to the room and found Dean listing to the side.

'Huh?' Dean blinked and tried to make out who was coming towards him, for some reason he felt light-headed at the same time he felt as though he was holding up the world. 'Wha' 'appened?'

'You were thrown into the bookcase, it landed on you as well as all of my books,' Jim explained patiently as he started to clean the long jagged cut on Dean's temple, 'this is going to sting.'

'No shit … owww!' Dean tried to pull his head away from the offending treatment but Jim had a firm grip on his chin.

'Sit still.'

'Hurts.'

'I know it does but I have to clean it.'

'Where's Sam?'

'Not sure but we'll find him.'

'Hurts.'

'I know son won't be much longer.'

'Wha' 'appened?'

'Bookcase and books fell on you.'

'Hurts.'

'I know Dean…'

'Where's Sammy?'

'We're gonna find him but first we have to get you patched up.'

'Pastie Jim?'

Jim blinked and looked up, the last time he had heard the boys call him that Sam was a toddler learning to talk and Dean was trying to teach him. 'Dean what is it?'

'Sick.' Dean managed to get the one word out before he emptied his stomach onto the floor next to him, 'so-sorry J-Jim.' Dean mumbled miserably as he turned mournful eyes back to the preacher.

'Don't worry about it Dean, now let's get you cleaned up.' Jim said with a small shake of his head, the look on Dean's face took him back when the boy was no older than eight and he had a sudden attack of stomach flu, vomiting just before he could get to the bathroom, the poor child looked so miserable and so sick that Jim didn't have the heart to do anything but clean him up and give him a hug.

'I need to splint to your knee now Dean … you gonna hang in there for me?'

'Yeah, yeah Jim?'

'Yes Dean?'

'Where's Sammy? Where's my brother?' Dean asked, his face white under his freckles and large dark smudges made his eyes look bigger and wider as they filled up with tears. 'Where's Sammy?'

'We're gonna find him Dean I promise you.' Jim said as he finished splinting and dressing Dean's knee, 'okay son I'm going to help you stand up now, just put your weight on me.'

'So-sorry Jim.'

'Nothing to be sorry for Dean, that's it son nice and easy.' Jim managed to get a very shaky Dean upright and onto the couch before he grabbed a trashcan and shoved it under the younger man's chin. 'Just in case.'

'Thanks … where's Sammy?' Dean mumbled as his eyes slid closed as he surrendered to the sweet darkness.

'Dean open those eyes!' Jim's sharp voice penetrated that sweet safe darkness, 'open them now no sleeping.'

'M'not sleepin…'

'Dean!'

S—D

Two Hours Previously:

Sam watched in dismay as his possessed father hovered over the still form of his older brother, from where he was Sam couldn't tell if Dean was still alive or not. 'Please let him go.'

'Sorry kiddo no can do,' his father's eyes glinted at him as he turned and strolled back towards Sam, 'hate to tell ya kiddo but it looks like the books beat your bro there.'

'No, no he's not dead!'

'Ah yeah he is and now you're going to fulfil your destiny.'

'Please let my dad go.' Sam whispered unable to pull his gaze away from Dean's body, 'please I'll do whatever you want just let my dad alone.'

'Hmm I'd like to but I'm getting rather fond of this meatsuit.' The demon preened in front of the teenager, 'so wanna tell me Sammy boy what exactly did you see in that vision of yours?'

'My brother kicking your ass.' Sam smirked as he tried to channel his brother, 'you can hide behind my dad but he'll kick your ass too!'

'Big words for a little boy.' The demon snarled as it rounded down on Sam, twisting John's face into something almost unrecognisable it pushed in close to Sam making the teen wince and cough from its sulphuric breath.

'Two words dude … breath mint.' Sam snarked and then his head was reeling back from the vicious blow to his jaw, another blow came just as hard and as vicious from the other side and Sam slumped unconscious in the seat.

'Two words dude … hard fist.' The demon snarled back as it glanced down at Dean; it easily picked Sam up and slung him over a shoulder in the fireman's carry position but before it left it turned back to Dean and pulling its foot back, landing a brutal and violent kick to Dean's temple. 'See ya later Dude!'

S—D

Sam slowly opened his eyes and stared around his new surroundings, deep in his grief for both his father and brother as well as for the preacher he considered family, Sam saw little of what was around him.

He was lying on a soft bed with a thick warm blanket and quilt covering him, the larger than average single bed was under a large window looking out onto what was once a lush green forest in the background and a sculptured lawn and garden area around the house. Although now the grounds were nothing more than a large muddy puddle with a few straggling plants trying to grow in the ravaged ground. The forest was more like a forest of ghost trees, skeletons and death.

'Why Dean? Why me?' Sam whispered as he swiped at the tears he could feel building, he refused to cry he was not going to cry because Dean was not dead. Deep down he knew that Dean was not dead, he would have felt it in his heart and in his psyche, and Dean was not dead.

'Ah so sleeping beauty is awake!' the familiar voice brought Sam out of his musings and he turned to stare at the face of his father.

'Get out of my dad.' Sam snarled.

'Now, now who says that I'm not your dad, that this is what and who I really am?' the voice was mocking but the face bore nothing but malice and evil, there was very little of John Winchester left.

'No my dad and me may not get on and stuff but I know my dad and you're not even a poor second to John Winchester.'

'You snotty little brat!' Sam felt an invisible hand wrap around his throat, squeezing cruelly. He scrambled with his fingers trying to loosen the killer grip as he fought to breath, memories flashed in front of him of his father, his face twisted in anger and hatred trying to strangle the life from him. His dad's hands, slowly as the life ebbed away the faces merged until Sam couldn't tell the difference between the possessed and the parent.

Dropping back onto the mattress Sam fought to breath with his abused throat closing as fast as he could draw in the vital oxygen. 'Not … My … Dad.' He rasped.

'Ever wondered where all of your father's rage and mistrust of you comes from?' the demon smirked, 'I have control … complete control.'

'If … you … did … then … you'd … al-ready … b-be … dead.' Sam pushed the words out defiance shining in his green eyes.

'Brave words little boy.'

'You … can't … k-kill … me! You … need … me!'

'Enough!' Another voice broke through the standoff and Sam's skin started to crawl when he caught a glimpse of the new arrival. 'Go … Now!'

'But…'

'I said go now.'

Sam watched as his father's body slunk away and for an odd moment he saw nothing but an alley dog slinking away with its tail fixed firmly between the legs, and a perverse giggle slipped from his abused throat.

'I am sorry son I did not want … he did more than what I wanted.' The stranger said as he moved to sit on the bed next to Sam.

'I am not your son.' Sam spat out, he was sore, tired and pissed all he wanted was to be left alone.

'Ah but there is more to that statement than you will ever realise, but more of that later we have a lot to discuss.'

'Who are you?'

'The one who is going to take you to the top … this is just the beginning Samuel you are going to be the Prince of all.'

'I am not anyone's Prince.' Sam muttered, 'I'm no one.'

'Ah that's where you're wrong Samuel you see I chose you years before your birth. You are my Chosen One. This time, the so-called Apocalypse happened all to herald your arrival Samuel.'

'Why try to kill me if I'm so special?'

'He overstepped his boundaries.'

'No kidding.'

'Samuel I understand your confusion but all will come to you in time, now get plenty of rest and dinner will be soon.'

'Wait.' Sam cried out when the demon started to leave, 'what is your name?'

'Azazel.' The demon replied and vanished.

S—D

Jim hung the phone up and sighed deeply, without warning the resistance and the Hunter's Corps were suddenly falling apart. The commanding officer is missing, his second in command missing, one of the most important regiments was ambushed and taken the others were disappearing, breaking apart with no leadership to keep them together.

Civilians were dying, becoming enslaved or sacrificed faster and in larger numbers than ever before, they were losing what little they had gained since the apocalypse. Taking a deep breath he went into the living room and looked down at the fragile young man stretched out on the couch.

'Jim what is it?' Dean asked without opening his eyes.

'I am looking at the new commanding officer of the Hunter's Corps … I'm sorry Dean but with your dad … gone. Bobby is missing his truck was found covered in blood, Rufus and Caleb all missing the corps is falling apart and you are the only one who can take command.'

'I can't Jim I have to find Sam.'

'and by doing this you will and more Dean.' Jim said as gently but as firmly as he dared, 'there is no one else Dean, someone has sabotaged command from the inside, if you don't take command now Dean and give them someone to listen to, well then son we may as well hand everything over to the demons and the devil.'

'Gee pressure much?'

'I know that you're suffering Dean, I do … you're family is missing and you're injured but there is no one else.'

'I don't … what if I … what if I can't?'

'Dean I have faith in you … I know you can do this.'

'Jim … please don't I'm not worth…'

'If you say you're not worthy of this I am going to hit the other side of your head to balance you up.' Jim snapped, 'now the first thing is to get you back to command and to get this resistance back on track.'

'Jim…'

'We're going to find them Dean we are but we do it right.'

'I have to put Sam first Jim.'

'As always Dean.' Jim smiled tenderly and patted Dean's arm, 'rest while I get everything ready, will you be able to drive or do you want me to?'

'No one else drives mah baby Jim, sorry but that's the way it is.'

'As it should be I suppose,' Jim shook his head that was one thing about John and Dean Winchester their unholy connection to their vehicles.

S—D

Sam pushed himself out of the bed and tested his wobbly legs, after a few moments of hanging onto furniture he finally managed to take a few steps unaided. He felt so weak and couldn't understand why. His throat was healing faster than normal along with his other injuries that were superficial at best; none of them would cause issues with his balance or strength like this.

Just as his fingertips brushed the doorknob Sam felt the now familiar tingling down the back of his neck before his eyes rolled up and he collapsed bonelessly to the floor. Images flooded his mind faster than anyone could normally comprehend.

_The treeless hilltop made an arena without any input from human or supernatural hands. Rocks dropped and rolled forming the outer barriers, bottomless pits roared to life with flames shooting up from the core of the earth bathing the arena with a hellish hue of reds and black shadows. Two armies faced each other on either side of the hilltop divided by the arena and silence reigned and was louder than any noise known. Two combatants faced each other in the ring of stone and fire._

_In the distance the howling of hell hounds could be heard breaking the silence and heralding the beginning of the final confrontation._

_'You're dead!' _

_'You're an imposter!'_

_They cried out in unison both horrified as they were forced towards each other._

Sam screamed as blood poured from his nose, ears and eyes as his body was rocked with spasms and convulsions jerking as though he was being electrocuted. His eyes snapped open but instead of their normal jade green, they began to glint and flash from bright yellow-green flames to orbs of blood red.

'Dean!' He called out as his body seized once more before he slumped sprawled on the floor, and a bloody halo surrounded his head.

S—D

Dean sat up straighter and fought to keep the impala on the road. 'Sammy?' He cried out blinking blindly he fought the car until bringing it to a stop on the shoulder of the road.

Jim Murphy sat white-faced and gripping the dashboard with a white-knuckled death-grip, 'What happened Dean?'

'I-I could've sworn I heard Sam calling me.' Dean muttered almost to himself, with a deep breath he hauled himself out of the car and leant against the car drawing in deep, deep breathes he glanced up as Jim joined him but still concentrated on breathing and not vomiting. 'How can I do this Jim? Just tell me how do I fix this?'

'One moment at a time Dean, one moment at a time and maybe just a little faith.'

'Ya almost had me there Jim,' Dean managed a wry grin, 'he sounded so bad … so hurt.'

'The connection the two of you have is beyond compare Dean you have to take faith in that and in the power of it.'

'That I can try I guess, ahhh this is so … freaking messed up.'

'You know Dean you are more like your father than you realise.' Jim said as he helped the younger man ease his injured leg back into the car, he kept crouched down by Dean's side and locked gazes making sure that he listened to him, 'you are a great hunter in your own right and despite your tender age … You are a natural leader Dean your men respect you and listen to you young and old alike. The best way to save both your father and brother as well as our friends is for you to do this. Draw on your connection with Sam, whatever you need to take your anger and your fire and use it. This is your time Dean Winchester, you are the only one who can do this.'

'Yeah well chick-flick moments on the side of the road doesn't do much for the rep Pastor Jim.' Dean smirked hiding his own insecurities and anxieties behind his mask of dark humour and bravado. 'Let's do this.'

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**Then:**

_'You know Dean you are more like your father than you realise.' Jim said as he helped the younger man ease his injured leg back into the car, he kept crouched down by Dean's side and locked gazes making sure that he listened to him, 'you are a great hunter in your own right and despite your tender age … You are a natural leader Dean your men respect you and listen to you young and old alike. The best way to save both your father and brother as well as our friends is for you to do this. Draw on your connection with Sam, whatever you need to take your anger and your fire and use it. This is your time Dean Winchester, you are the only one who can do this.'_

_'Yeah well chick-flick moments on the side of the road doesn't do much for the rep Pastor Jim.' Dean smirked hiding his own insecurities and anxieties behind his mask of dark humour and bravado. 'Let's do this.'_

**Now:**

Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass,  
Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron,  
Can be retentive to the strength of spirit;  
But life, being weary of these worldly bars,  
Never lacks power to dismiss itself.

(Julius Caesar 1.3.93)

S—D

Chapter Six:

After only one more hour of driving Dean had to admit defeat and it nearly killed him. His vision was so blurry he could no longer make out the edges of the road ahead and the few trucks and cars that were on the road seemed to be heading straight towards the impala even if they were far in the distance. He glanced over at Pastor Jim and finally made the decision, without a word he slowed down enough to pull off the highway safely.

'What is it Dean is something wrong?' Jim asked as the slowing down of the car brought him out of his semi-slumber, 'where are we?'

'Dunno, don't really care but … sorry Jim I just can't … I can't drive for a while.' Dean admitted through gritted teeth, his knee was on fire and he could feel the swelling trying to burst through his worn jeans.

'I am so sorry Dean I should have paid more attention to you and your injuries,' Jim paled slightly as he took in Dean's condition. The younger man's face was a pasty green colour with splotches of red on both cheeks. He had dark smudges under sunken eyes and the cut running down his temple had started to bleed again, the crimson fluid trickled down the side of his face from under the sodden dressing. _How could I have missed his getting so sick and how quickly it has happened? _'We need to find a place to stay for the night,' He finally said keeping his guilt ridden thoughts silent for now.

When he got no answer Jim reached across just as Dean slumped towards him, 'oh Dean,' he said as he eased the young man down onto the bench seat; getting out of the car Jim stared around the desolate area the landscape had changed so much in such a short amount of time that it was barely recognisable now.

As he stared around he saw how the trees were skeletons, buildings carcasses and burnt out cars seemed to be nothing but metallic coffins. The highway stretched out ahead and behind them, has become the new look graveyard. The sky seemed to be a permanent grey colour now with the sun burning brighter and hotter than ever before. In the distance he could see a spiral of black smoke spinning upwards, horrified Jim realised what was causing the smoke and it saddened him even more with the thought that humanity was disappearing and being replaced by a more animalistic creature: A creature driven by fear and violence.

S—D

Sam opened his eyes slowly, everything was covered in a veil of red and it made his nausea roll around his stomach even more. A low groan slipped from his throat and he found himself wishing desperately for something to drink.

'There is a bottle of water on the table next to the bed,' a disembodied voice startled the teenager and he sat up too fast, and before he could stop it projectile vomit sprayed from his mouth. More fluid than solid it splattered over the bed and floor and although it made him feel slightly better inside Sam wanted to throw up again after the foul smell reached his sensitive nose. It smelt of rancid fluids and coppery blood; before he could do anything to stop it a burp preceded another vomit projectile.

'That is disturbingly gross,' the voice sounded again but this time it was accompanied by movement. Sam felt as though he was suffering from motion sickness as the shadow came towards him and the bed was moving.

'Sam calm down please before you take the bed for a test drive through the wall,' the voice mocked him, 'you do realise that you are doing that yourself?'

'Leave me alone,' Sam grunted as he tried to spit out the foul taste in his mouth, 'let me die in peace.'

'Believe me you are not dying boy far from it,' the voice came from just in front of him causing Sam to look up and to try and focus on the blurred blob.

'Who are you?' Sam asked, 'no don't answer me just go away.'

'I am here because father wants me to make sure that you're … comfortable.'

'Father? Who the hell?'

'Azazel is my father, you can call me Chaz.'

'I don't need a babysitter or another brother. I have the only brother I want or need.'

'Tsk, tsk Sam I thought that at least we could be friends,' Chaz said as he lifted the open bottle of water to Sam's lips, 'drink kiddo.'

'Don't call me that,' Sam grumbled as he sipped thirstily at the cool drink, 'why is everything red?'

'What are you talking about?' Chaz asked as he took the bottle back and replaced the cap on it.

'Everything I see … it's like I have red coloured contacts on and that's the only colour I can see.' Sam said miserably, 'I gotta get outta the bed or I'm gonna puke again.'

'Let's get you cleaned up, maybe your eyes will clear up after a shower?'

'A shower?' Unable to stop himself Sam sounded hopeful and almost excited at the thought of finally being able to get cleaned up.

'Yeah gee hold back on your excitement there bucko!' Chaz teased as he helped Sam off the bed and guided the stumbling teen towards the door, 'talk to me Sam are you dizzy or anything?'

'Huh?' Sam blinked and looked up at the man next to him, he was shorter than Dean and a thinner build, from what Sam could tell he had short fair hair but as far as facial details or anything else it was hopeless; the guy was red in Sam's eyes just like everything else.

'What's the matter Sam do you feel sick or dizzy or …?'

'Ahh dizzy I guess, if the ringing in my ears would stop it might help a bit,' Sam bit his lower lip and decided to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

'Okay well let's get you cleaned up and then we'll go from there,' Chaz said as he opened the bathroom door and guided his young charge inside. The bathroom was bright and airy despite no windows; a large glass surrounded shower dominated one corner, next to it a standalone clawed foot bath and in the other corner a white ceramic toilet matching the bath. Thick towels hung from a heated rack and plush mats in front of both shower and bath finished the opulent look. 'I think a bath is the best for you today kiddo.'

'Don't call me that,' Sam said but the weakness of his voice and the fact that he could barely stand without swaying took the heat out of his words. Silently Chaz shook his head and pushed Sam down onto a chair that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Minutes later the bath was filled with steaming water and fragrant bubbles. Without asking for permission he quickly and impersonally divested Sam of his scant clothing and had him immersed in the deep bath before Sam had a chance to react.

'Okay soak and enjoy your bath _kiddo _I'll be back before ya know it.'

'No rush, ya know ya can not bother to come back doesn't worry me I'll find my own way out.' Sam said as he eased back into the bath and tried to relax. The warmth of the water seeped into his joints but his soul was still icy cold and seemingly lifeless. _Where are you Dean? I need you, I need to know you're alive, I'm scared Dean I don't know what to do._

S—D

'What did that idiot do to Sam?' Chaz seethed as he strode into his father's office. The demon master was standing at the large window staring out at the asphalt car park stained with blood and grime. The window had wire safety screens that were buckled and covered in fire-burns and ash. Long cracks spider-webbed through the glass, and thick dust littered the sill. The office was more of a large space with a desk, a couple of old filing cabinets and computers that had been used as target practice at some time in the recent past.

Azazel turned slowly and arched an eyebrow at his son's anger and tone of voice, 'what are you talking about Charzael?'

'The idiot you allowed to ride Winchester and to masquerade as you.' Chaz spat the words out, 'the one who thought it was funny to strangle the Prince, who thought it was funny to bury the brother of the said prince under a pile of books and wood, the one who still thinks he is you…'

'I think you have made your point Charzael, what would you have me do?' Azazel asked patronisingly.

'First _Father _send it back down below until it can follow orders and then man up and do your own dirty work.'

'I would watch your tone with me _Son_!' Azazel snapped suddenly appearing in front of his son, 'I will not be dictated to by you or anyone else.'

'I will not apologise Father, you told me to look after Samuel and to groom him into submission, how can I do this if he is too ill and injured to cope with anything? Oh and by the way for some reason his sight has been damaged.'

'What do you mean by that?'

'Everything he sees is bathed in red, the way he described it to me is that he feels like he is wearing red coloured contacts. Blood red to be exact … I watched the tape of him during his vision … he bled from the eyes when he was seizing.'

'And?'

'And now his vision is filled with red, oh and he projectile vomited and can barely stand up straight do you think that sounds normal? That it sounds like a healthy _Prince_?'

'Alright you may have a point.' Azazel leered at his son as he sashayed back to the desk and propped a hip on the furniture, 'where is Samuel now?'

'Bathing, and if I think I may say so I did create a rather wonderful bathroom for him.' Chaz grinned, 'he might be a bit of a runt in the size department but give him another couple of years and that boy is gonna be … yeah.'

'Get your mind out of the human gutter, what about the older brother?'

'He is alive although as far as Sam knows he is dead. It's probably the only intelligent thing the idiot did.'

'So for now all Sam knows is that his brother is dead, his father is possessed and most likely dead and that he is a prisoner of demons?'

'That about sums it up oh and don't forget his so-called powers.'

'Powers? It is only supposed to be visions for now what else has he been exhibiting?'

'Telekinesis, full on psychic stuff and oh and probably enhanced healing which probably means…'

'That he'd be an empath … that was not the intention.' Azazel snarled his eyes flashing yellow as his temper rose, 'and how did this happen? It was not meant…'

'I think that your perfect little Prince is naturally gifted and you have only enhanced what he already harboured deep down,' Chaz said grinning as he realised he had just burst his father's bubble when it came to his special one. 'This is what you get for letting amateurs do the job.'

'Get out.'

'Yes Father,' Chaz said giving his father an exaggerated bow before he strode out of the room and headed down the metal stairs he had one more stop to make before going to check on his new pet project.

S—D

Bobby thought there was nothing that could make him scream and not just yelling but a full bodied scream of unadulterated agony. He had been strapped to the surgical table for what seemed forever; time had become something so surreal he no longer thought of it in any other terms except for his next breath. He tried to think of his wife, of the salvage yard, of Dean and Sam the only sons he would ever have even if they were not blood and he thought of the missed chances he had during his life as a hunter. He tried to think of anything and everything except for the inventive forms of torture they were trying out on him.

Another scream ripped from his throat as a red hot iron needle was pushed through his thigh from front to back. 'You fucking idjit bastards let me down and then try that!' he spat the words out, blood stained spittle spraying over the blank face of his torturer.

'Bobby you okay there man?' Caleb called out from the shadowy depths of the basement.

'Hang in there Singer,' Rufus called as well knowing that there was only a certain amount of time and he would be replacing Bobby on the table.

'What you looking at you black-eyed bastard?' Caleb growled when one of the guards moved closer to the cages and openly stared at him as though he was a specimen in a Petri-dish. Lunging at the bars Caleb reached out and managed to get a fistful of the demon's shirt with adrenalin fuelled strength he pulled as hard as he could using his forward momentum and managed to pull the demon off balance. Rufus watched for his chance and went for the sidearm.

Caleb had dropped to the floor of his cage his energy totally spent but when he saw Rufus gain the upper hand and get the gun he garnered as much of his flagging strength as he could manage and started to recite an exorcism.

The two guards started to convulse and drop to the ground as the words fell effortlessly from Caleb's lips, finally the two men collapsed dead before they hit the ground.

'Hang in there Bobby.' Caleb whispered as they worked to get free of the cages, 'we're coming dude.'

S—D

Sam heard Chaz coming before the door opened and he heaved a deep sigh; he had just started to relax enough to enjoy the healing warmth of the bath and whatever oils used to help ease the tension in his muscles. The weird light-headedness was still there and Sam was scared that something was seriously wrong with him. If he had something deadly inside his head waiting to explode or maybe implode; suddenly he had images of his own head imploding with brains and muck running down his neck.

Wide-eyed he sat up suddenly and gasped for air as the image lingered behind his eyelids. 'Losing it Sam.' He muttered belatedly realising that he had spoken aloud when he heard a chuckle. 'Not nice to spy on people.'

'Not spying I just got back,' Chaz said as he handed Sam a towel, 'ready to get out or you wanna prune up some more?'

'Where are my clothes?' Sam asked suspiciously as he stood and wrapped the towel around his slender waist before stepping awkwardly out of the deep tub.

'Whoa hang on there Speedy let me help,' Chaz appeared in front of Sam and took his arm just as Sam was about to take a tumble catching his foot on the lip of the bath.

'Thanks,' Sam mumbled blushing, 'where are my clothes?'

'Gone here put this over your shoulders and we'll go back to your room there's clean clothing for you on your bed.' Chaz dropped a white robe over Sam's shoulders and then turned while he waited for Sam to dry himself and to wrap the robe around his slender form.

'I want my own clothes.' Sam said petulantly, 'I want my dad and my brother and I want to get out of here.'

'Gee demanding much?' Chaz asked as he led Sam back to his room.

'Stop trying to be Dean, you'll never ever come close … just leave me alone.'

'Sorry kiddo can't do that, my job is to look after you and to keep you healthy,' Chaz said mildly as he noticed the spark of life showing in the teenager.

'The name is Sam.' Sam corrected the demon as he pulled on the clothes left on his bed albeit reluctantly. The boxers and jeans fit perfectly, the oversized T-shirt and soft hoodie were similar to what he usually wore and they were slightly too big, 'how did you know that I prefer my … tops to be big?'

'You wear your brother's hand-me-downs so it's normal for them to be bigger and well with the second-clothes you get are more often slightly larger sizes so that you'd get the wear out of them not hard to work that out. Your jeans and boxers well I just checked what you were wearing already.'

Grateful for the clothes although he wouldn't say as much Sam sat down on the freshly made bed to put his sneakers and socks on. He wasn't going to feel completely comfortable or safe until he was fully dressed. There was something about the demon who called himself Chaz Sam couldn't quite pinpoint it but he felt better when he was fully clothed around him.

'How's the sight? Still seeing red?' Chaz asked trying to sound disinterested.

'Red as blood and my head feels weird. What did they do to me?'

'How weird?'

'Dizzy and lightheaded but not faint or anything I dunno it's hard to explain,' Sam said with a simple shoulder shrug as he concentrated on tying his shoelaces.

'When you're ready I have to take you to see someone,' Chaz said changing the topic to one that he can control.

'Where and to see who?' Sam asked staring at him suspiciously.

'You'll see soon enough so you ready?' Chaz asked as he pulled Sam to his feet and wrapped an arm around him.

'What are you doing? Let me go!' Sam cried out struggling against the iron-like grip.

'Shut up, settle down and enjoy the ride.' Chaz laughed as he disappeared; taking Sam with him.

S—D

A man huddled against the wall in a vain attempt to keep warm; the dampness was starting to seep into his joints making them ache even more than his stiff muscles from being in the same position for so long. The iron cuffs bit into his wrists and the chains weighed his arms down; they kept him tethered to the wall, making it impossible for him to stand or move anywhere. His eyes stung from the lack of sleep but he couldn't allow himself the luxury of sleep not until he knew where he was and exactly what was happening.

He had little memory of what had happened to him since he had regained consciousness, chained to the wall, barefoot and dressed only in a thin T-shirt and jeans in a dark and damp cell. He yelled in pain and fright when the door swung open and his cell was flooded with bright light.

'Who are you? What do you want with me?' He called out, tears running freely down his stubbled cheeks caused by his eyes reaction to the sudden light.

'Now, now John is that anyway to speak to the one who delivers your son to you?' A young man stood in front of him close but still out of his limited reach.

'Dean? Dean is here?' John sputtered out confused, he blinked furiously as he tried to clear his vision enough to see his son, his heart started to crumble when he finally recognised the young boy standing with his head down and shoulders slumped. 'Sam? Please no … not Sam.'

'Ah I love family reunions,' Chaz said clapping his hands, 'okay kiddo you can visit with daddy dearest for a while, I'll come back and get you when your time is up. Oh and don't forget to tell daddy all about your adventures and what you can do now … and one last thing what you do and say after this visit Sam dictates what happens to your father from here on in. If you want him to be alive and relatively healthy then do as you are asked, perform like the good little puppet prince. If you don't want him to live or to suffer for anything well you will be rewarded and it will be easier for you to accept your destiny. It's all up to you Sammy boy.' Chaz said before he disappeared and left Sam alone with his father. Two lit hurricane lamps the only source of light in the cell casting the two occupants in shadows and sickly yellow hues.

'Sammy … What's going on?' John asked as he strained to see Sam's face. Images flashed in his mind, chilling him to the bone … his argument with his sons … Sam having a vision … Sam collapsing with seizures … his hands around Sam's throat … arguing with Bobby … Bobby punching him and walking out … the phone call from Jim … voices echoed in his ears as he overheard a telephone conversation about an attack planned on Bobby.

'My name is Sam.' Sam's voice broke through John's clouded mind and thoughts and he once again focused on his youngest son's face.

'Sam … oh God I don't … what happened how did you get here? Where's your brother?'

'They said Dean's dead dad.' Sam answered tonelessly as he sat down just opposite his father and rested his aching head against the cool wall. 'Do you remember what you did?'

'What I did? Sam I … you'll have to help me out kiddo I barely remember anything.' John stared openly at Sam trying to reach his boy when he got a clear look at Sam's eyes.

'Sam … your eyes … what happened to them? They're red, there's no white, no green only red.'

'Dunno what happened really just that I woke up like this,' Sam shrugged slightly, 'I can only see red, blood red.'

'How did you get here Sam?' John asked as he tried to reign in his impatience and anger at the way Sam was answering his questions.

'You came after me and Dean, came to Pastor Jim's,' Sam's voice started to crack as he spoke but he kept talking afraid if he stopped he would start to cry and he was not going to cry in front of his father. 'You threw Dean into one of the big bookcases it landed on top of him as well as all of the books. I couldn't see him move or if he was breathing and then you threw Pastor Jim out of the room and down the hall. You forced me onto a chair and I couldn't move. You made my head hurt so badly and then the next thing I remember is waking up in a strange bedroom and told that Dean was dead.'

'I – I don't remember … it wasn't me Sam.'

'Dean worked it out dad, said you were possessed, he knew it wasn't you before Pastor Jim and me,' Sam said unable to look up at his father. 'I tried not to look at you coz it still hurt …'

'Sam I – I don't know how to … I am so sorry son for what I did to you.'

'You tried to kill me dad.' Sam said as he slowly lifted his head and looked at his dad, 'you tried to strangle me, and called me a monster said I wasn't your son.'

'That wasn't me Sam … I remember flashes of what happened when it let me … I could see my hands around your throat … I heard my voice say those things but it wasn't me Sam it wasn't me!'

'How long?'

'How long what son?'

'How long have you been possessed and are you still or is it just you now dad?'

'I remember standing at my window watching you and Dean sparring, I remember feeling so proud of the two of you and then I got this headache and … then a big ball of nothing.'

'I nearly died dad and you tried to stop Dean from helping me … I don't understand how could you get possessed at command?'

'That's a very good question Sam, what about Dean?'

'I don't think he is dead dad,' Sam said as he tried to push his headache to the back of his mind, wincing he started to massage his temple with two fingers in a vain attempt to ease the tension he could feel building. 'If Dean was dead I'd feel it, I know that sounds weird and … and it's hard to explain but …'

'I believe you Sam.' John interrupted Sam smiling softly at the surprised look he received, 'I know that it sounds too good to be true but I do believe you. You and Dean are so close it's only natural that you would feel something if he was dead.'

'Th-thanks dad,' Sam said although he was tempted to utter 'Christo' just to see what happened.

'What else Sam?'

'Ahh the demon Azazel is the one who took us … I think he's the one who killed mom and who had a hand to start the apocalypse.'

'The yellow-eyed demon?' John asked incredulously.

'Think so, his name is Azazel he was supposed to have been the one possessing you.'

'Sam I – I don't think it was from what I can remember it wanted to impress the boss …'

'I guess that makes a few things clearer,' Sam said as he thought about the last couple of days. 'Dad they took Caleb, Rufus and Bobby as well as the others in the platoon.'

'I know son.'

'I-I had another vision just after I woke up here.'

'Sam I know that … I just want you to know that although I don't really understand what is happening to you and why I'm trying, really trying to … I don't think that you're a monster to be hunted down and killed. We're gonna get you through this and then we'll deal with everything else…'

'Dad there's some other stuff I think you should know before you say anything else.' Sam admitted lowering his gaze again.

'What other stuff? Sam look at me what other stuff?'

'I – I think I can move things with my mind and I can kind of pick up on people.'

'Now you've lost me Sam.'

'It's like I can sense when people are coming stuff like that, I'm healing faster than I used to …' Sam stopped when he saw the look on his father's face, even through the red haze he could see the change on his father's face. 'You hate me know don't you … I am a freak … a-a monster.'

'No, no Sam stop putting words in my mouth,' John snapped, 'I never said anything or …'

'I can see the look on your face dad, I might only see red but I can still see,' Sam said as he tried to match his father's glare. 'I don't understand what's happening to me dad! My head feels like it's about to explode, I-I'm dizzy and feel like I want to fall over all of the time. I'm scared dad … I'm really scared.'

John opened his mouth and then closed it again, his anger gone as fast as it ignited; he looked at his son and suddenly saw a frightened fifteen year old boy in front of him and not the psychic puppet of a demon. Sam was his son and nothing else.

'Dad what's wrong?' Sam asked as he watched his father wince and rub his chest the short chains hampering his movement.

'N-nothing Sammy I'm fine…' John gasped as the pain in his chest intensified.

'Dad … Daddy what is it?' Sam cried out as he watched his father collapse, breathing erratically and sweating profusely.

'Pain … chest … ahh.' John managed to get out before he finally lost consciousness.

'No, no dad please don't die,' Sam cried as he scrambled over to his father's side, he tugged at the cuffs before taking a deep breath and imagined them open. Once he had his dad free he got him lying on his back and tried to stay calm enough to check his father's breathing and pulse. 'Don't die please dad don't die.' Sam cried as he could feel the pain radiating down his arm and in his heart, terrified he tried to pull back from his father but found himself unable to and instead pressed his hand against his dad's chest as he tried to get his own heart to settle.

As the pain intensified Sam found himself lying next to his dad, his hand still firmly pressing against John's chest sharing the pain through the connection. Sam could feel the life force ebb slowly from him and into his father. _At least I can save you dad, tell Dean I love him _was the only thought he had, unable to say what he wanted he blinked slowly as he watched his father's face as the pain lines faded away and he visibly started to improve.

Gasping for each breath now, Sam smiled gently and let his head drop against his father's shoulder. 'Love you daddy.'

S—D

Dean woke with a start and stared around trying to get his bearings. He was in a bed in what appeared to be an old motel room, for a moment he thought he could hear his brother and father talking but then he remembered what had happened and dropped his head back onto his pillow despondently a stray tear ran down his cheek.

'Dean are you alright?' Jim's voice brought Dean back to the present and he turned his head slightly to peer up at the preacher.  
'Hey Jim … where are we?'

'Found a motel not far from where you pulled over, it was easy enough to get a room,' Jim sighed and sat down on the edge of Dean's bed, 'how are you feeling son?'

'Better I think, I had a weird dream but I feel better.'

'Do you want to talk about it?'

'Nah I'm fine, so did you get some sleep as well?'

'Yes I did thank you,' Jim smiled and patted Dean's shoulder, 'how about I have a look at your knee and then we find something to eat.'

'Sounds like a plan Jim,' Dean grinned although he still felt strange, as though something was off or missing. 'Hang on Sammy we're coming for ya.' He muttered under his breath as he made himself comfortable while he waited for Jim to gather up the first aid supplies needed to redress his injuries.

Jim surreptitiously watched Dean's face as he dressed the younger man's damaged knee. His worry amped up when he felt the heat radiating from the joint; the swelling had receded slightly but with it lessening the bruising was becoming more prominent. Black, blue and purple swirled in painful patterns around the kneecap and down around to the creases at the back. Dean bit back a groan of pain when Jim touched a particularly sore spot; he found himself wishing for a good bottle of whiskey and oblivion.

'Dean, Dean stay with me son,' Jim said panicking slightly as he watched Dean's eyes start to roll upwards, 'don't you go passing out on me.'

'Damn it hurts,' Dean said through gritted teeth, 'argh I'm so sick of this.'

'As soon as we get back to command we'll get some of the good stuff into you and you'll feel like your old self again,' Jim said giving Dean's good leg a soft pat. 'Are you alright to get up or do you want me to bring you back something?'

'Nah the more I can keep moving the better I think and it's killing me to admit this but crutches would be pretty handy about now.' Dean admitted ruefully.

'What about this?' Jim produced a walking stick from beneath the bed, 'it's not perfect but it might help.'

'How? When? Scratch that Jim thank you,' Dean smiled as he took the cane and slowly eased himself towards the side of the bed, 'now's as good a time as any I guess…' Holding his breath Dean put his foot to the floor and bracing himself with the cane stood up. As he let out his breath he felt as though he was going to pass out but gritted his teeth and took deep breaths through his nose and exhaled slowly as he pushed the pain to the back of his mind and took his first tentative step.

'Ah sh-shit,' Dean yelled when pain akin to electrical shocks shot through his injured leg and he fell back onto the bed.

'Dean?'

'I'm fine Jim just … just give me a minute,' Dean panted as he pulled himself up and started to stand up again. While Dean made his way to the bathroom and to finish getting reading Jim went to get the impala parking it as close to their motel room door as possible.

They drove in companionable silence as they searched for breakfast, although it seemed that things were finally looking up for them when they found a small diner open about five miles down the highway. The irony of it being on a crossroad was not lost on either of the hunters.

'Want to eat in or take it on the road?' Jim asked as he turned to look at Dean, 'honest answer this time Dean do you think you'll be right to walk?'

'One way to find out Jim,' Dean said with a small grin as he pushed the door open and leaning heavily on the cane hauled himself upright, 'see nothing to it,' he panted a sheen of sweat appearing on his already pasty face.

'Uhhuh sure Dean,' Jim shook his head he was no longer shocked with the pure pig-headed stubbornness shown by the Winchesters, all three of them.

S—D

Dean was savouring his second coffee when he felt a strange tingling in the back of his head; the cup slipped from his fingers as buzzing filled his ears and his sight started to blur and fade. 'Jim?' He managed to get out when an agonising shaft of pain cut through his head.

'Dean?' Jim moved as quickly as he could to Dean's side, worried that the concussion was worse than he had thought and something was majorly wrong when suddenly Dean gasped and slumped forward. 'Talk to me son what is it?'

'Sam.' Dean said simply as he turned tear-filled green eyes to the preacher, 'Sammy's alive.'

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**Then:**

_Dean was savouring his second coffee when he felt a strange tingling in the back of his head; the cup slipped from his fingers as buzzing filled his ears and his sight started to blur and fade. 'Jim?' He managed to get out when an agonising shaft of pain cut through his head._

_'Dean?' Jim moved as quickly as he could to Dean's side, worried that the concussion was worse than he had thought and something was majorly wrong when suddenly Dean gasped and slumped forward. 'Talk to me son what is it?'_

_'Sam.' Dean said simply as he turned tear-filled green eyes to the preacher, 'Sammy's alive.'_

**Now:**

When love begins to sicken and decay,  
It useth an enforcèd ceremony.  
There are no tricks in plain and simple faith.

(Julius Caesar 4.2.20)

S**—**D

Chapter seven:

Dean stood staring out of the office window, coffee in one hand and long forgotten notes in the other. Jim and Dean had arrived in command two days earlier and Dean had firmly ensconced himself in John's former office. He point-blankly ignored medical advice to stay in the infirmary, to rest and to let his body heal. Instead he wore a brace over his knee and popped the last of his own stash of Vidicon and Advil with copious amounts of black coffee and an occasional stale sandwich.

Jim stopped at the door and stared in shock for a moment he was sure that it was John standing at the window watching his sons spar in the distance. The son was fast becoming the father and that worried the preacher more than anything else and there were a lot of pressing issues to worry about.

'What is it Pastor Jim?' Dean asked without turning around.

'How are you feeling Dean?' Jim asked stepping into the room he walked slowly towards the eldest Winchester son, 'are you…?'

'I'm fine … thanks,' Dean answered tonelessly, 'I can understand why dad liked standing here at the window, great view of the training grounds he could keep a watch on everyone and everything from here.'

'Especially you and Sam … he'd stand there for hours watching the two of you train and spar.'

'Really?' A small smirk twitched at the corner of Dean's lips as he turned to look at the older man, 'how are you doing Pastor Jim?'

'Never better my boy,' Jim said with a small shrug he could be just as evasive as the rest of them when he wanted too.

'I just received the reports on the ambushes,' Dean dropped the papers on the desk in front of Jim, 'there is definitely an informant amongst us here in command.'

'How can you … are you sure Dean?'

'Sure as I can be, I aint no commander or anything but going by these they had to give away the locations of the scouting groups as well as the platoons.' Dean swiped at the papers angrily, 'they were waiting for them, outnumbered and outgunned.'

'So what do we do now Dean?'

'I go after Sammy and dad … I know that's not possible but fuck Jim this isn't fair.' Dean's gravelly voice sounded deeper than usual as he fought to keep his raging emotions at bay, 'Caleb and the others any word on them?'

'No I am sorry my boy,' Jim said his own voice filled with remorse and regret, 'it was my order … I was the one who sent them into the ambush.'

'Who gave you the intel?'

'Markus he was working with Rufus.'

'Is he still here?' Dean asked as he finished his now cold coffee with a grimace, 'man what I would give for a cold beer and a hot woman.' He muttered and then had the decency to blush when he realised that Jim had heard him. 'Sorry Father Jim.'

'No need to apologise Dean … what are we going to do about Markus?'

'Get him in here,' Dean said as he turned back to the window and started to stare out again, his thoughts straying to his little brother, _dammit Sammy where are you? I need you here Geek boy, I have no idea what I'm supposed to do._

S—D

_Dean and Sam Winchester dragged the large cardboard box down the corridor of the burnt out school and into the room their dad now used as an office. They finally arrived at their destination with a lot of huffing and arguing and together they pushed it into a far corner out of the way of all of the grown-ups._

_'Gonna be a great fort Dean,' Sammy enthused as he took in the size of the box, 'it's huge.'_

_'Yeah it sure is Sammy, so how would ya like me to set it up for ya?'_

_For the next half hour the boys worked silently and in synch with each other as they created their own version of the command centre. 'So Sammy you gonna be the boss?' _

_'Deanie … ya can be boss if ya wanna.' _

_'So what do we have here?' Bobby grinned as he crouched down next to the fort and peered in, 'lookin' good boys do you want this old keyboard to use?'_

_'Wow thanks Uncee Bobby,' Sammy beamed, 'it's really good me …no I can call Batman.'_

_'Now member Sammy Batman is pretty busy catchin' all the bad guys in the war.' Dean said trying to sound stern but he couldn't stop smiling at his brother's antics, he was just too cute, 'now Sammy we gots to member that dad is really busy in here and we can't bother him, so we's gotta keep quiet for him.'_

_'Uhhuh,' four year old Sam Winchester bobbed his head in agreement his big dimples growing with his smile, 'I promise Deanie.'_

_John sat at his desk reading the latest reports coming in from the front line skirmishes. He had no idea if he was the right person for the job and the amount of paperwork and reports to read was mind-blowing. Dropping the sheets of paper on the desk he scrubbed at his eyes and glanced over at the corner of his office where he told the boys to play. A soft chuckle slipped out when he saw the fort they had built. His babies were growing up so fast and now trapped in a war neither should even know about. _

_'Whatcha think dad?' Dean looked up and caught their dad watching them._

_'It's looking good Dean, where's Sammy?'_

_'No Sammy here Sir, we got Robin but no Sammy,' Dean giggled when Sam shifted behind him and hit a ticklish spot._

_'Oh okay and where's …'_

_'I'm Batman,' Dean quipped lowering his voice as deep as he could and posing with his hands fisted on his hips._

_'Batman and Robin to save the day huh boys?' John chuckled. _

_'Yep Batman can kill all the bad bug eye demons without any super-powers … just strength.' Dean said as he tried to puff out his chest even further._

_'Oh he does huh? He's pretty special then,' John said as he went over to the boys and sat down next to their fort, 'can he help this tired old Commander?'_

_'Sure can Dad,' Dean beamed and then he signalled Sam and the two boys jumped their dad and started to tickle him, 'tickle power, no one can 'scape it.' Dean announced._

_'Tickle power,' Sammy parroted his little fingers twitching and tickling in under John's shirt.'_

_'Best power source ever,' John laughed as he ticked the boys back._

S—D

John opened his eyes and frowned as he tried to focus on his surroundings; the fort was gone, instead was a ratty looking mattress shoved along a wall. The boys weren't there, not as small boys anyway. He could see Sam lying on the floor hunched against a wall, his son looked ill, no more than ill he looked emaciated. He was dressed in jeans and an oversized hoodie but still so tiny in comparison to his brother at the same age.

'Sammy?' John whispered as he dragged himself over to his youngest son; in his mind he could still see the tiny four year old playing Batman and Robin in the cardboard fort. His chest felt as though someone had jumped up and down on it and then used it for a punching bag on the inside. Confused he pushed himself as quickly as he could stopping only when he felt Sam's arm. 'Sammy?' Gently he leant over and brushed stray hairs from Sam's face before checking his pulse and breathing. His skin was clammy, pulse weak and thready and breathing shallow, his baby was not in a good way.

He shuffled until his back was against the wall and then gathered Sam into his arms, cradling him against his chest, 'have to get ya warm kiddo,' he said rubbing his hands along Sam's thin arms, chaffing the chilled flesh.

'D-Dad?' Sam moaned and snuggled a little closer to the warmth radiating from his father.

'Hey Sammy,' John whispered hoarsely, 'how you doin?'

'M'fine, what about you dad?' Sam moved so he could tilt his face upwards as he tried to make out his father's, 'the chest pain?'

'Huh? Oh yeah it's gone … what happened?'

'Dunno, m'tired dad, so tired.' Sam said as he once again cuddled up against his father unashamedly, he couldn't care less if it made him look like a little boy and not a grown teenager.

'I've gotcha Sammy,' John said resting his cheek on the top of Sam's head, 'I've gotcha.'

_How did he do it? I was in pain, my chest … heart attack I was having a full on heart attack and Sammy put his hands on me and … and … nothing. Shit I've got nothing but there must be something … how did he do it?_

'M'not a monster, gotta tell dad,' Sam said his voice muffled but clear enough, John blinked in shock it was as though Sam had heard his thoughts. 'M'not a monster, dunno how I did it … dad's gonna hate me now.'

John shook his head, Sam was not talking to him directly, and the kid was delirious adding another item to the ever-growing issues list. 'Sammy? Hey dude can ya look up at me?'

'Dad?' Sam blinked and squinted up at the blurred face in front of him, with a shaking finger he reached out and touched the side of John's face, 'Dad is that you?'

'What's wrong Sam?' John asked his frown deepening when he saw the red circles around Sam's irises. 'Your eyes are … different … Son can you see?'

'Nuthin' but red dad, everything's red and when I try hard to see anything I get a bad headache,' Sam dropped his chin and hid his eyes from his father's own penetrating gaze.

'Sam?'

'I can't see much of anything dad, and what I can is all red, like someone has dyed my eyesight with red stain.' Sam explained hesitantly.

'Sam … Sam don't worry we'll work it out I promise,' John said hugging his son tightly.

'Christo?' Sam whispered he so wanted to believe his dad was the loving one he was now and it wasn't all an act to get him off guard. 'We've gotta get going dad.' Sam moaned and burrowed in closer to John's chest wanting to feel that warmth again.

'Ah Sammy shh it's alright kiddo,' John said as he wrapped his strong arms around his youngest son and hugged him even closer, in his mind he could see the tiny four year old with his big dimples playing Batman and Robin with his brother with no other worries except for how long could they keep tickling and playing without stop.

'Dad?' Sam asked worried at the sudden silence in their cell, 'dad you okay?'

'Huh? Oh yeah, yeah I'm fine Sam just thinking … do you remember that fort you and Dean made in my office, you would've been about four?'

'Okay random but yeah kindof … I remember … I remember being Robin to Dean's Batman and that we … we used tickle power on you.' Sam half-laughed, half-cried as the long lost childhood memory filtered into his mind, 'that was a long time ago.'

'Yeah it was … we're gonna get outta here Sam, we'll find Dean and get these bastards.'

'They told me Dean's dead,' Sam said his voice partially muffled against his father's chest, 'but I don't feel it, if Dean was dead I'd know Sir.'

'I know Sam, I feel the same if he was dead then I'd feel it, just like I'd know if something happened to you Sam.'

Sam lifted his face up and frowned slightly as he considered his father's words, 'but I'm a freak dad, a – a monster why would you …?'

'You're still _my _son Sam, no matter what has been done to you and no matter what you have inside you, I am your father and no one will take that from us. Do you understand me?'

'Yes Sir,' Sam said a small smile forming on his battered face, 'I love you dad.'

'Love you too son,' John said his voice heavy with emotion.

'Oh isn't it too touching for words!' Chaz quipped as he appeared leaning against the opposite wall to the father and son. 'Sigh gotta love family reunions.'

'Leave us alone,' John growled.

'Nice to see you alive John, little Sammy is full of surprises isn't he,' Chaz said as he crouched down to look at the youngest Winchester closely, 'makes you wonder what else he can do and how long he's had these powers.'

'Leave my son alone,' John carefully sat Sam up and moved to position himself between the demon and his son.

'Oh isn't it so sweet, I've almost got tears,' Chaz said with a snort, 'almost … now come along Sam you have been here way longer than you should've been. Say goodbye to daddy and if you're good you might get to see him again before…' and then Chaz let his words hang, an unspoken threat clear to the Winchesters.

'Not going anywhere with you,' Sam said defiantly, 'm'fine right here with my father.'

'Sorry kiddo no can do, got places to go and people to see…' Chaz said disappearing and reappearing right next to Sam, grabbing his arm he disappeared again before John had a chance to react.

S—D

Chaz dropped Sam as soon as they materialised not caring how he landed, he was already over all of the pussy-footing around with the Winchesters, he had a plan and wanted to move on with it. 'Here he is Father, can I go now?'

'What is your rush Charzael?' Azazel asked his son, he spared a brief glance to the boy lying at his feet and then stepped over him and moved closer to his demonic son. 'Do you have somewhere to go, a certain someone to see?'

'I don't know what you're on about Father, I have done your bidding and now I am finished.' Chaz announced, with a flick of his wrist he had Sam suspended against a wall, 'the fresh meat is yours now.'

'Do not overstep your boundaries Charzael, I will not have you plotting your own battles,' Azazel hissed striking Chaz across the face, 'you will be an obedient son or you will join your bitch of a mother in the pits do you understand me.'

'Yes Father,' Chaz capitulated, 'I will await your next instructions.' He finished with a flourish and mocking bow to his father before vanishing, leaving Sam alone with the Master of Demons.

'Now Son what am I to do with you?' Azazel asked as he stepped in front of Sam.

'I'm not your son,' Sam spat out as he tried to squash his terror, he could feel the power emanating from the creature in front of him, 'please just let me go I can't do anything I can't even see.'

'Ahh but you can do a lot young Samuel, you brought your human father back from death among other things you are quite adept naturally.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about, I just want to go back to my dad and go home.' Sam pushed the words out as he felt a pressure on his throat squeezing the very life from him.

'I will not tolerate insolence or disobedience from my sons.'

'I … Am … Not … Your … Son!' Sam ground out, he had red flashes bursting in his eyes as he felt himself sliding into oblivion.

'No, no you're not going to give up just yet,' Azazel stopped the pressure on Sam's throat and let the boy drop to the floor.

Sam cried out as he landed on his left ankle, the crack was audible to everyone in the room. He tried to swallow down on his pain but it was too great and the edges of his awareness greyed dulling the ever present red sparkles.

'No you don't.' Sam heard the words but couldn't answer them, a loud buzzing sounded in his ears and then from the depths of his soul a red rage filled his body and mind. He felt the power building and filling him with something he had never felt before. Climbing to his feet Sam smiled coldly as he faced Azazel, the red ring now fully covering his irises with flaming red disks, still unable to see properly he could easily make out shapes and forms.

Sam held his hand out and started to pull at the demon inhabiting the human body; in his mind he could see the black smoke as he forced it out of the body.

S—D

Dean looked up and smiled wearily at his friend as he came into the office, forced to sit down with the pain coming from his knee Dean had gone through all of the reports and notes about all of the skirmishes and battles of the last six months.

'Thanks for coming in Markus, sit down please.' Dean said as he pulled out a bottle of whiskey from the desk drawer and offered a shot to the other man, 'I found it in dad's filing cabinet, I'm sure that he won't mind if we have one.'

'You think that your father is still alive?' Markus asked as he accepted the drink; aged somewhere in his late thirties Markus Clark had been with them since his own battalion had been massacred five years ago. The most distinguishing feature of the hunter was the fact that he was so average. He was of average height and build; brown hair and brown eyes, there were no distinguishing features about him at all. That was something in itself, he could move between the two factions without fear, no one could really place him, yes he might have been seen but perhaps not.

'I know my both my father and brother are alive Markus,' Dean said his voice amiable as he poured out two more shots, 'and I know who has been selling us out.'

''I was sure that I heard that Sam was dead.' Markus asked as he casually sipped his whiskey and watched Dean carefully over the rim of his glass. 'Yeah? Do you really think that there's a mole here?'

'Yeah, especially now we have lost so many of our top level hunters, Bobby in particular.' Dean said as he pushed his chair away from the desk and stood up slowly favouring his injured knee, 'we need men to stand up and to take their places.'

'You, you want me to step up and take Bobby's job?' Markus asked his eyes lighting up with excitement.

'No not exactly, I've got something else in mind for you Markus,' Dean said smiling, although his smile didn't reach his eyes; they were cold, flat and had a murderous glint to them.

S—D

Sam took a deep breath and swiped at the blood dripping from his nose, at his feet laid the now dead meatsuit Azazel was wearing, the guard also dead was lying in a pool of a murky and foul smelling substance. Staggering slightly Sam managed to get to the door on his injured ankle, he was sure that it was broken but for now he was managing to stay upright and that was all that mattered.

He pushed out with his mind and found that he was the only one on that floor of the building; limping heavily Sam moved into the short corridor and down the metal stairs, one step at a time. Panting heavily Sam paused and tried to 'feel' if anyone else was around, and then he hurried as fast as he could to the wall. Using it as a crutch and a guide Sam leant against the wall heavily as he moved closer to the doorway he had his gaze fixed on.

When Sam touched the door he gasped audibly, the pain radiating out from behind the door had Sam reeling drunkenly away from his only anchor; the wall. Gasping in short sharp gasps of air, he forced down the rising bile and panic attack as he fought to regain control of his own body. He didn't have time to fall apart now, he had no idea where Chaz was and it would only be a matter of time before Azazel found another meatsuit. Straightening his shoulders Sam put his hand on the door and concentrated; he had no idea how he could do it but for now he was not going to question just accept it as fact.

'I'm coming guys,' he whispered as he cast another glance around before effortlessly breaking the lock and slipping inside. Feeling his way down the stairs Sam stopped and listened intently, he had to concentrate and to distinguish between the different life-forces he felt. Four of them were easy they were radiating extreme pain and caged, but at least three others who were not true human or demon possessed.

Holding out a steadying hand Sam felt his way along the wall, suddenly Sam dropped just as a knife embedded itself in the wall right where his head was just a second ago. Blinking furiously Sam found himself wishing that he didn't have the red staining his eyesight. 'Hang on guys I'm coming,' Sam whispered as he raised his hand and pulled with his thoughts again.

Ear-splitting screeches filled the basement; the stench of sulphur and blood mingled with other unknown smells making it cloying and nauseating.

'S-Sam?' a familiar voice called out to the younger man bringing Sam back from the haze filling his mind.

'Caleb? Where are you?' Sam cried out blindly flailing with both hands in front of him, he slipped and started to fall on his injured ankle when he caught his left hand on the corner of a table and managed to stop his descent.

'I'm here Sam right here,' called out Caleb with a frown forming _what's wrong with Sam? _The thought crashed through his mind as the answer hit him, 'Sam can you see?'

'Not much, pretty much nothing where are you?' Sam answered trying to sound as confident as possible.

'Keep coming straight about four steps,' Caleb coached him, his frown deepening as he watched Sam limp heavily towards him, the kid looked like he was death's doorstep, bruised and battered, with a feverish sheen to his skin and a gauntness that should never be seen on a youth from the USA. 'Sam?' Caleb reached out and gently touched Sam's arm, 'it's good to see ya kiddo.'

'Where are the others?' Sam asked as he ran his fingers over the lock on the cage door, it seemed to be simple but that meant nothing in a demon controlled place.

'Rufus is in the cage next to me and Bobby was put in one on the other side …'

'Bobby?' Sam lifted his head and appeared to be looking at Caleb, 'they got Bobby too?'

'Yeah ambushed his car at the same time they got us, Max and Tim are both gone I think they took em away and haven't seen em since,' Caleb explained as he watched Sam closely, 'your eyes Sam?'

'I dunno what happened but all I see is red shaped blobs and forms.' Sam answered, 'are there keys or something?'

'There should be keys on the guard, half the time they didn't bother locking the cages after the … each turn on the table.'

'Table?' Sam tilted his head to the left as he thought about what Caleb had just said, 'where?'

'There should be a small bolt just above the lock,' Caleb said and watched as Sam felt for the lock.

His fingers felt over the roughness of the wood until he came to a small metal bolt, 'this it Cal?'

'Yep that's it, it should unlock the door for me,' Caleb said as he pushed the door open and eased himself out hissing in pain and with the stiffness as he finally lowered his feet to the floor in what seemed like an eternity.

'Where's the others Caleb?' Sam asked as he reached out with his mind, all he could feel was pain-filled blackness and two other non-humans, 'we've got company coming.'

'How many?' Caleb asked, swallowing down on the questions he had for Sam himself; he could save them for later. They had a more immediate problem and that was getting them all out alive.

'Two more I think,' Sam wrinkled his nose and tried to discern the different odours, 'is Rufus alive?'

'Hang on I'll open his cage … you okay Sam?' Caleb asked when Sam appeared to sway and looked as though he was on the verge of collapse.

'F-Find Rufus please Cal…'

Caleb moved stiffly and painfully over to Rufus' cage, 'hey you old bird-dog you still kicking in there?'

'Go away, let me die in peace.' The disgruntled hunter complained only to have his arm and shoulder roughly shook once again. 'Go Away!'

'Get out ya great big idiot.' Caleb said though there was no heat in his voice, 'do you wanna get outta here?'

Rufus looked up and stared in confusion at Caleb standing outside the cage and it finally dawned on him when he looked at Sam. 'Sam?'

'That's me Rufus, good to hear your voice,' Sam said with a small smile, 'we have to get Bobby out.'

'He's just over there,' Rufus said pointing across the room.

'Sam can't see Rufus.' Caleb said softly, 'he's eyes have been damaged.'

'Ah Sam I'm sorry.'

'That's okay Rufus, let's go and get Bobby huh?' Sam said, 'there are two demons hiding either side of a table or something like that.' He added and put his arm out to stop his two friends.

'Thanks for the heads up Sam, you stay here and we'll get some payback.' Rufus said as he crept off.

Five minutes later they had the two guards subdued and the demons drawn out by Sam, who was now too weak to stand; the last exorcism had just about drained all of his waning strength.

'Sam you doing okay?' Caleb asked as he slung Sam's arm around his own neck and braced the kid against him.

'Bobby … have to find Bobby,' Sam said as he slumped against Caleb's side, the two of them seemed to brace each other. Rufus had already gotten to Bobby's cage but found it empty instead he found his old friend tied to another table, the coppery smell of spilled blood and burnt flesh permeated through the air making the hunter start to cough.

'Bobby?' Sam cried out as Caleb helped him over to where Bobby laid, 'Bobby? Is he?'

'He's still breathing Sam but he's in a bad way,' Caleb said lowering the boy onto a stool close to the torturer's table.

Sam nodded and swallowed deeply, he could still feel the pain coming from Caleb and Rufus, it was almost suffocating now it was mixed with Bobby's agony. 'I have to … help me stand.' Sam reached out to Caleb, 'I – I need to stand up.'

Confused Caleb did as Sam asked and helped him to stand up; Sam placed a shaking hand onto Bobby's chest and concentrated. Caleb and Rufus watched in silent awe as Bobby was bathed in a silver light emanating from Sam's hands.

'Sam stop it you're killing yourself,' Caleb called out grabbing Sam's hands he pulled him away from Bobby breaking the connection. Blood poured from Sam's eyes, ears and nose again as fought to stay conscious.

'B-Bob?' He rasped his eerie eyes rolled up and Sam finally lost his grip on his consciousness collapsing into Caleb's waiting arms.

'Ahh fuck … wha' 'appened?' Bobby moaned as he opened his eyes and slowly focused on the faces surrounding him and finally on the whiter-than-white face of Sam, 'wha' did th' idjit do?'

'Not … sure think he healed ya,' Caleb answered while he made quick work of the shackles holding Bobby down, 'how ya feeling?'

'Bit sore but not too bad, I can move my knees again.' Bobby said as he slid off the table the dizziness passed quickly and so did his stiffness, 'considering it all not too bad at all, hand the idjit over will ya?' Caleb passed Sam across to Bobby who easily lifted him in his arms, resting Sam's head on Bobby's shoulder. 'You two ready?'

'Yep we can do this,' Rufus waivered slightly and then pulled himself up to his full height, the pain he'll worry about later when they were free again.

'Mmm Bobby?' Sam murmured, 'gotta get dad … dad's here.'

S—D

Chaz knelt by the body of the meatsuit his father was using, something had forced his father from it rather violently. 'So who did you piss off this time father?' He stood up and looked around the office his eyes narrowing as he picked up on what happened. 'Oh you fool father.' He shook his head and swept out of the room, he was not too worried about Sam escaping for now because he was easily tracked, especially now. He did worry about the fact that his secret may be uncovered and that would not do Chaz was not ready to 'unveil' it just yet.

With another glance down at the body Chaz made a decision and disappeared from the room the heavy stench of burning flesh and hair remained as flames licked the corpse and spread across the timber flooring. The building soon becoming food for the fire and it gorged itself on the large building made of wood and metal.

S—D

'John? John's here?' Bobby glanced down at the semi-conscious boy in his arms, 'where is he Sam?'

'Small room … a… cell like room.' Sam whispered just loud enough for Bobby to hear, 'he – he needs help.'

'Don't worry Sam we'll find him,' Caleb said although he looked as if a stiff wind would knock him over.

'Guys you notice something?' Rufus asked as he rested against the wall, he coughed harshly and took a few seconds to catch his breath properly.

'No guards,' Caleb muttered and then paled even more, 'and fuck … smoke the place is on fire.'

'Okay Rufus and Cal you get Sam outta here I'm gonna go look for the other idjit Johnny Winchester.' Bobby went to pass Sam over to Caleb when he felt the boy tighten his grip on his shirt, 'Sam what is it?'

'No, no we stay together … haveta stay together.' Sam said as he lifted his face towards Bobby's even with unfocused eyes covered with red haze he still managed to pull off his kicked puppy look.

S—D

The ragtag little group made their way through the winding tunnels and corridors beneath the factory very slowly. With both Rufus and Caleb weakening and Sam unable to help heal them they had to take their search for John a step at a time.

The labyrinth beneath the large abandoned building was deceptively big, roughly hewed out of the bedrock and lined with wooden boards they resembled the prisoner of war tunnels in the old World War II movies.

Embedded in the wall ahead of them was a set of wooden steps, narrow and very steep they wound up through a gap to the next level. Bobby gently sat Sam down on the bottom step while he caught his breath, even though Sam had healed him, Bobby was still feeling the effects of the torture and deprivation. 'How are you two doing?' Bobby huffed looking over at Rufus and Caleb, neither looked good though at least Caleb looked like he wasn't going to keel over in the next five minutes.

'So we're gonna do this the smart way,' Bobby said as let his gaze roam over the three faces, 'first we know that there is a fire somewhere in the building and that's our major concern danger wise, I'd say that's why we aint got guards to worry bout, though I'm not sayin' that we won't run into any. We find John and get the hell outta here, we'll work out the rest when we're outta here.'

'You all go on and I'll back you up,' Rufus panted, 'I can't do it Bobby so just get on without me and I'll cover ya.'

'Rufus ya not stayin' behind an' that's all there is too it.' Bobby snapped, 'got no time for heroics.'

'Aint heroics at all, being practical Singer that's all.' Rufus argued breathlessly. Wordlessly Sam sat up and reached out to where he was sure Rufus was standing, confused the older man moved a little closer and stiffly crouched down to Sam's level.

'What is it Sam?' Rufus asked as another bout of coughing started leaving him completely breathless.

Sam reached over and grabbed hold of Rufus' wrist; the older hunter felt an infusion of heat immediately up his arm and then through his entire body. His ragged breathing eased and for the first time since his abduction Rufus actually felt human again.

'Sam!' Bobby called out as loudly as he could without startling the boy but he had to get Sam to let go, the last of his strength was fast being absorbed by Rufus' abused body.

Both Rufus and Sam slumped backwards when the connection was broken, the older hunter was awake and aware but a little dazed at what had happened. Sam had blood trickling freely from his nose and ears, blood-stained tears rolled down his pasty face as he slowly fell into unconsciousness.

'Here I'll carry him up,' Rufus said when he saw Sam faint, 'can ya lift him onto my back?'

'You sure doofus?' Bobby asked eyeing his friend suspiciously.

'Just do it Singer,' Rufus shook his head, 'I'll carry Sam and you look after Caleb.'

'Alright keep yer hair on,' Bobby groused as he easily picked Sam up and lifted him onto Rufus' back, he couldn't but stop and worry about just how light the teenager was to lift. 'Okay Caleb your turn up and at 'em.'

S—D

'Dad … there.' Sam pointed weakly to a door in front of them. The small group had been walking for just a couple of minutes when they came to a landing with four doors leading off it. Below them was a large pit filled with ash and burnt wood and other items slightly less distinguishable although when Bobby looked a little harder he could see charred human remains. It must have been one of their sacrificial pits; turning away from the railing Bobby looked over the landing carefully, before trying the doors. Aside from the one Sam had indicated John was behind, there were two other rooms similar to John's and a set of stairs behind the fourth door.

'John?' Bobby approached the huddled figure warily, 'John Winchester?'

'Who … who …is it?' John finally answered but still remained huddled against the wall, he hadn't moved from there since Sam had been forcibly removed from him.

'John it's Bobby Singer, we've got Sam with us … we have to get outta here John, they've set the building on fire.'

'S-Sam?' John slowly rolled over and stared up at Bobby, faint hope shining in his eyes, 'Sam's with you?'

'Right here with us, Caleb, me and Rufus but we have to get going…'

'Sam's with you?' John frowned and tried to sit up but failed, too weak to sit he went to roll back towards the wall resigned to the fact that he was going to die there.

'No ya don't ya freaking idjit now git up, I aint carryin' yer heavy ass so git up and show some backbone.' Bobby yelled as loud as he dared and nudged John with his booted toe, not hard but just enough to be annoying.

Finally, after a few tense minutes John rolled over again and this time he managed to sit upright; with the help of Bobby and Caleb he got to his feet and stood on shaking legs for a minute or two until he regained his balance.

They emerged from the small room to find Rufus and Sam still waiting for them, John made a beeline straight for his son, a look of horror formed on his face when he saw Sam's rapidly declining condition. 'Oh God Sam…'

'He keeps trying to heal everyone,' Rufus said shaking his head in awe at the boy, 'saved my life the young idiot.'

'Yeah I know what you mean,' John said as he palmed Sam's cheek, 'what's happening?'

'Dunno looks like the gooks are gone but they've set a fire somewhere close…' Rufus said as he readjusted his precious cargo and started to move on, 'come on we've got more stairs to climb yet.'

S—D

Jim looked up and smiled when he saw Dean limping towards him, he had just finished an interesting phone call and was about to go and find the younger man anyway. 'Looks like you've saved me a walk,' he said in greeting.

'Just had to get out, I gave Markus the bait and enough rope,' Dean said, 'so what's with the phone call?'

'A fire at an abandoned factory about an hour or so from here.' Jim said glancing down at his notes, 'it's well known as a place of sacrifice, demons bolted and the building's burning, reports of human prisoners in the bowels … torture victims.'

'Do ya think?'

'It could be Dean it could be yer brother and father or the others or all of em.'

'So what are we waiting for? Let's get going now,' Dean said as he started to limp back to his office.

'Dean we have to do this the smart way.' Jim said, 'we can't go in guns blazing.'

'Why not?' Dean asked turning his own version of the kicked puppy look on, 'we have to do something.'

'We will son, we will.' Jim patted Dean's shoulder, 'we'll find all of them.'

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

Chapter Eight:

**Then:**

_'A fire at an abandoned factory about an hour or so from here.' Jim said glancing down at his notes, 'it's well known as a place of sacrifice, demons bolted and the building's burning, reports of human prisoners in the bowels … torture victims.'_

_'Do ya think?'_

_'It could be Dean it could be yer brother and father or the others or all of em.'_

_'So what are we waiting for? Let's get going now,' Dean said as he started to limp back to his office._

_'Dean we have to do this the smart way.' Jim said, 'we can't go in guns blazing.'_

_'Why not?' Dean asked turning his own version of the kicked puppy look on, 'we have to do something.'_

_'We will son, we will.' Jim patted Dean's shoulder, 'we'll find all of them.'_

**Now:**

Well, honour is the subject of my story.  
I cannot tell what you and other men  
Think of this life: but, for my single self,  
I had as life not be as live to be  
In awe of such a thing as I myself.

(Julius Caesar 1.2.92)

A group of five hunters stood just across the road from where the building blazed; surrounded by some sightseers they blended in easily. Too easily, even with their various injuries and soot covered clothes they blended in with the human sightseers. Supporting their youngest and most severely injured they slowly made their way away from the fire to find a place of relative safety and a chance to call for help.

A smaller building half a block away from the fiery scene afforded them the most shelter with vantage points to watch from. Carefully Rufus lowered his precious bundle onto a pile of rags and torn blankets the others had found before standing up and moving away just enough to allow others space to work and where could keep a look out.

John lowered himself down and braced his back against the wall before gently lifting Sam's head onto his lap; he craved a chance to once again be a father to his youngest and was going to seize every opportunity that presents itself to him.

Caleb laid on the floor just a couple of feet away from Sam, his injuries taking their toll on him and his energy levels were completely depleted. Without the bonus of Sam's healing touch Caleb was weak and starting to succumb to the worst of his wounds. Bobby dressed the worst of the visible ones and managed to find a large enough blanket to cover his younger friend with. 'Hang tight Cal we're gonna git outta here.' Bobby said as he sat back a little and gave him a last look over, 'got some water for ya to sip.'

'N-n-no f-f-for S-S-Sam.' Caleb weakly shook his head but gave in when Bobby tipped the bottle just enough for the lukewarm water to trickle between Caleb's cracked lips.

'Easy, easy ya idjit don't need ya chokin' yerself.' Bobby said and gently patted Caleb's shoulder, 'rest up kiddo.'

John watched his old friend tend Caleb with a tenderness rarely shown publically by the gruff and abrasive salvage man, with a small knowing smile John shook his head and then turned his attention to his youngest son. Sam hadn't moved since they'd lowered him to the floor and that made John realise sadly if it wasn't for the shallow movements of Sam's chest, the kid appeared dead.

'Sam? Sammy you in there kiddo?' John asked trying to rouse the teen, 'come on Sammy we need ya to come back … Dean needs you …' He hated to use the Dean "card" but if it worked he was not going to apologise for it. A frown started to form between Sam's eyebrows but that was the only sign of his regaining consciousness.

'How's he doing?' Bobby asked as he lowered himself down in front of Sam, 'any signs of waking?'

'Thought it was but nah just a twitch I think,' John said without looking up, his gaze firmly locked on Sam's face.

'He's a great kid John, he's gonna be fine.' Bobby said as he went about cleaning and dressing Sam's visible wounds.

'Yeah he sure … what about when he wakes up Bobby? He was so scared of how people were gonna look at him and treat him when they find out what he can do…'

'Nuff of that kind of talk ya great idjit,' Bobby stopped his ministrations and stared up at John his gaze sharp but non-accusatory, 'he's yer son and no matter what that'll never change.'

'I know that Singer, Heaven help me I know that but… I'm more worried …'

'Don't … think or worry Johnny jist look after yer sons … both of em!' Bobby said and then returned his attention back to Sam's injuries.

Once he had finished dressing the last of Sam's wounds he gave both Rufus and John a quick check over before submitting to one of his own, 'make it quick Johnny.'

'Yeah, yeah just sit still for me will ya.' John grumbled, 'yeah yer fine.'

'So we need to get word out to the others,' Bobby said scratching his beard he glanced around the room they were hiding in. They were in an abandoned shop, probably would have been a hardware or supplies store in its day; now it was rundown and obviously ransacked on more than one occasion. 'Do ya think our lucks gonna hold?' he grinned at John and nodded at a wall phone hanging loosely from its wall socket.

'Be too easy Singer …' John started but a small movement from Sam silenced him and had him watching his son closer, 'Sam? Come on Sam time to wake up. Wake up Sam that's an order.'

'M'wake…tired … wanna go back … sleep dad.' Sam mumbled as he settled back into his fitful slumber.

'Nope no you don't Sam Winchester … Up and at'em now!' John barked out the order, he hated doing it but at least it had the desired effect and two bleary, red-ringed eyes tried to focus on his face. 'Nice to see ya awake kiddo.'

'D-Dad?' Sam reached up to touch his father's face, 'love ya dad… m'sorry.'

'Sorry for what son?' John asked his heart cracking a little more when he saw a lone tear trickle down Sam's already bloodstained and bruised cheek.

'W-wanted to b-be a b-better son f-f-for you … m-more l-like D-D-Dean.' Sam admitted swallowing deeply against the rising nausea he tried to stay conscious enough to say what he wanted, no what he needed to say to his dad before he died.

S—D

'Scouts are out now, scouring the area if your dad and brother are out there with the others Dean they'll find em.' Jim tried to reassure the young commander but there seemed to be a heavy cloud of despair gradually closing in on him.

'How do we know that they'll get them in time?' Dean asked unable to look up at the cleric, 'what the hell do I do then?'

'Dean please listen to me …'

'Sorry Pastor Jim but my quota of miracles has expired.' Dean finished his whiskey and went to pour another one when a hand landed on top of his, stilling his lifting the bottle to refill his glass.

'I think that's enough son, when was the last time you ate something?' Jim asked sliding the bottle across the desk, 'or slept?'

'I had some-something … what's your point Jim?'

'You're running on empty Dean, what good are you going to be to your family if you end up collapsing of exhaustion and starvation?'

'Bit over the top there aren't ya Pastor?' Dean tried for his "no one can touch me" smirk but all he managed was a pain-filled grimace.

'Alright that's it, bed rest for you Dean Winchester.'

'Aww Pastor Jim,' Dean looked up with a wounded puppy gaze, 'I tell ya I'm fine!'

'Don't look at me like that Dean, you're going to get some rest even if I have to hogtie you myself.'

'Okay, okay I hear you Pastor and I will I promise but when …' before Dean was able to finish his retort a loud banging on his door made him jump, _fuck maybe I do need sleep, _shaking his head to clear his thoughts Dean yelled out 'come in,' before going back to sit behind his desk, the whiskey now forgotten.

'I got news Dean, Jim, I got news!' An excited looking Walt Walker burst into the office without caring if he had interrupted anything, 'they found 'em! They've found your dad, brother and the others.' He said in one breath.

'Found them? All of them?' Dean sat back and ran his hands over his stubbled chin, 'they alive?'

'Yep … Cherry sent word they're on their way back now.' Walt said, also known as Giraffe because of his long neck and smallish head, in his excitement his head bobbed around and looked as though it was going to detach itself from its neck. 'Cherry radioed in … him and Ray found em hold up in an old hardware store close to the fire.'

'How, how are they?' Dean asked dimly aware of Jim's hand squeezing his shoulder in support.

'Not sure but …'

'Get the medics on standby, full alert,' Dean said as he stood up and pulled his gun from a desk drawer, 'also double the guards around the perimeter just in case, Jim can you find Markus for me, I don't want him unattended at anytime…'

'Got it Dean, it is going to be alright son.'

'Thanks Preacher,' wincing when feeling flooded back into his bum leg Dean took an extra second or two to let the sensation pass, 'alright let's get this show on the road.'

S—D

Chewing his lower lip Dean felt his impatience grow as he limped up and down the driveway watching the horizon for any signs of his family's return. 'Where the hell are ya Dad? Sammy?'

'Dean!' Jim's voice broke Dean out of his reverie, 'they're coming in hot!'

Shaken by the urgent tone in Jim's voice Dean visibly shook himself and then took the binoculars the Preacher offered him. He watched as the small convoy sped towards the command centre behind them a gang on motorcycles, armed with both weapons and supernatural powers. His heart sank when he saw the lead car swerve and then roll repeatedly until it came to a stop on its roof, dust clouds surrounded it and slowly descended like a funeral shroud over the remains.

'Sammy…' Dean flinched as he watched some of the pursuers left their bikes in order to feast on whoever was in the crashed vehicle. Unholy screams of pain, terror and bloodlust filled the air.

'Ahh bless their souls Father and take them home to you.' Jim muttered.

The other two cars careened onto the property and came to a skidding stop at the end of the driveway, dust, stones and dirt flew everywhere in the aftermath. Unable to cross the protected barriers the motorcyclists rode in circles, the sound of laughter and whoops of victory filled the silence making the humans shudder in disgust and anger.

'Bastards!' Dean spat out as he drew his gun and flicked the safety off, 'fucking bastards!'

'Dean!' Jim grabbed his arm before the younger man could go after their tormentors.

'What?'

'Look…' Jim nodded to the rear of the building where another vehicle crept into the car park; a large black van with no distinguishing marks or number plates. 'Go on and see for yourself.'

'Sam? Dad?' Dean grinned at the cleric and limped off as fast as he could towards the newest arrivals. A decoy convoy was something his dad would have thought of in a blink of an eye and obviously Cherry remembered his lessons with John, 'gonna have to remember to thank Cherry with this one.'

'Go … we'll take care of this,' Jim said as Walt and Cherry joined him, 'we'll be fine I promise go to your family Dean.'

S—D

Dean watched impatiently as one by one his family, blood and hunter, were unloaded from the van. Caleb was first, still unconscious and lying on a stretcher, it was so strange for Dean to see him lying so still. Caleb could never sit still for a minute; he was always fidgeting in some way or another. Then came Rufus and Bobby both looking worse for wear but moving under their own steam and best of all – alive. Finally, came John carrying Sam in his arms, as fast as he could Dean limped to their side, his hands ghosting over Sam's face before landing on his father's shoulders. 'Dad? Sam is he?'

'He's very weak and injured but I think that he'll be okay…' John said, 'it's good to see you Dean.'

'Good to see you again too dad.' Dean finally smiled, 'want me to take him?'

'No, no I'm fine that limp of yours is pretty bad …'

'Nah aint nothing.' Dean kept pace next to John and headed inside to the medical wards.

S—D

John sat between the two beds and watched over his sleeping sons; Dean had finally succumbed to his own exhaustion and still healing injuries and fell into a deep dreamless sleep before his head hit the pillow. Sam was yet to wake again but considering the amounts of energy he had expelled healing three of them it was of no surprise that he was still out cold.

John scrubbed his hands down his face and thought back over the last few weeks and how things had changed so dramatically and in such a short period of time.

He was equally proud of and leery of Sam's "gifts". _Sam has done nothing but helped everyone no matter what it did to himself, where did these so-called gifts come from and what else can he do. Most of all however is who else knows about them?_

'Your thoughts are very loud Jonathon.' Jim said as he placed a steaming cup of coffee into the other man's hands, 'here you look like you need this.'

'Thanks Jim, what about Dean how … how was he?' John glanced over at his eldest son, even in sleep Dean looked as though he carried the weight of the world.

'Tired, depressed, in pain, terrified, proud, commanding … what else can I say John he's a Winchester.' Jim said and sipped his coffee quickly trying to hide his small knowing grin before he said anything else and perhaps start a small but explosive discussion. That can be saved until another day.

'What happened Jim?' John asked sounding uncharacteristically unsure and vulnerable, it had been a long time since Jim had seen or heard him like that.

'What do you mean John? What happened when?'

'I – I don't remember everything Jim, but enough … I know I tried to kill Sam and turned on him, I know I sent my sons into an impossible situation and didn't worry … I – I remember feeling nothing except this deep seated rage that seemed to get worse rather than better. That's about it until I came too and was in a cell of some sort. It's all a bit of a blur after that until they put Sam in with me and he … he healed me.'

'What do you mean healed you?' Jim asked but kept his gaze fixed on Sam's still form.

'I think … no I know I was having a heart attack. I should have died Jim but Sam, Sam put his hand on my chest and … this is going to sound...'

'Doesn't matter what it sounds like, he put his hand on your chest and…?'

'I felt this warm sensation spread through me and there was no more pain. Nothing but a comforting warmth and calmness.'

'John…'

'I know how crazy it sounds Jim but Sam saved my life literally saved my life and then he did the same with Rufus and Bobby. But he, he collapsed before he could heal Caleb, he willingly did that even when it was clearly hurting him.'

'He is amazing John there is no doubt about that!'

'Jim, when they had brought him to me, he … oh God Jim he was so scared of me, of what I would do to him.'

'He was not terrified of you, never you John it was what was wearing you … the demon not you.'

'Dad?' Dean blinked a few times and then stared wearily at his father, 'is it…?'

'Yeah it's me Dean, aint no one else in here 'cept me.' John said tapping his forehead for emphasis, 'how you doing son?'

'M'fine,' came Dean's stock answer, 'what about Sammy?' John and Jim exchanged glances and suddenly Dean's worry meter shot into meltdown mode, 'Dad? Jim what's wrong with Sam? What's going on?'

'He's exhausted and on the brink of malnutrition,' Jim said unable to meet Dean's piercing stare the cleric stood up and went over to Sam's side, bending slightly he checked the youth's pulse and felt his forehead wincing at the warmth radiating from him.

'What else Jim?' Dean asked as he sat up and swung his feet around onto the floor.

'Stay in bed Dean, that's an order!' John barked when he saw his eldest get ready to stand up, 'you're not …'

'I'm fine dad, Sam's the one we have to worry bout.' Dean shot back as he continued to struggle onto his feet, 'damn what did they give me?'

'Just a sedative,' Jim answered distractedly, 'I think Sam's trying to wake up.'

'Jim?' Dean stubbornly got to his feet and after a few seconds of dangerous swaying he limped the short distance to Sam's bed almost falling down onto the edge when he went to sit down.

'You Winchesters are going to be the death of me,' Jim grumbled while he continued to try to rouse Sam back to complete consciousness.

S—D

A sudden and threatening explosion had the three hunters all dropping for cover, the building shook and plaster crumbled and fell dousing them all in dust and debris. Dean instinctively covered Sam with his own body, he laid there dazed for a second trying to come to terms with what had just happened when he heard a soft moan beneath him.

'Wha' the? Dean gerroff me!'

'Sammy?' Dean sat up and stared down at his brother a goofy grin on his pale face, 'hey dude.'

'Dude … personal space!' Sam grumbled as he tried to work out what had just happened. 'Dean?'

'That's mah name Sammy boy, how you doing?'

'M'fine … what happened?'

'You nearly killed yerself moron!' Dean said as he sat up and gave his brother a closer inspection, 'damn Sam what the hell have you been doing?'

'Trying to get … oww that hurts.' Sam pouted but sat back and let his brother do the full on mother-hen routine on him. 'Where's dad?'

'Right here Sam, you did good son.' John said with a soft and warm smile for his youngest, 'Caleb, Bobby and Rufus are all here and alive as well.'

'I-I couldn't heal Caleb.' Sam said as he turned his face away from the scrutiny of the others, 'I couldn't do anything to help him.'

'Sam you were so close to … to dying son so don't you dare apologise for anything and I'm sure when Caleb is feeling better he'll give you a good kickin' for talking like that too.'

'Yes Sir.' Sam said yawning widely, 'Dean?'

'Right here kiddo.' Dean answered, 'm'not goin' anywhere.'

'Jim why don't we go and see to the others, let em know that Sam's awake?' John said with just a hint of regret in his voice, he wanted to stay with Sam and to continue building on their newly re-found bond but he did know better than to try to come between his two sons. 'We have to get to the bottom of that explosion as well.'

S—D

Two shadowed figures crept along the outer fence line of the compound searching for any breach, finally they had come to the conclusion that there were none they returned to their motorbikes and found their saddlebags. One of them barked orders as the other primed the explosives; if they couldn't get in to the humans then they would bring the humans to them. With a howl to signal to the others, they returned to the fence line; without a care for being caught they set the explosives and then with more howls and jeers at their prey they fired their weapons with into the air trying to get them out into the open. Bloodlust filled their minds and without any thought for their own perceived safety they started aiming their guns.

Growls and snarls filled the air when the bullets hit their own; creatures and demonically possessed humans turned on each other. Bloodied limbs and pieces of meat and muscle flew into the air filling the dark skies with sprays of blood, flesh, and bones before raining down on the already fouled earth.

The area surrounding the small compound now resembled a gladiator's arena, the lions of old the only missing killing machines; without the guidance of commanding officers the minions of Hades had only one objective to kill anything and everything. There was no military precision in their attacks, no one issuing orders or strategising their next moves only the need to kill, maim and to create as much bedlam as they possibly could.

Finally return fire sounded strategically positioned the rebels fought back and slaughtered the monsters attacking them. All of them hunters and trained warriors and they understood their enemy and the lack of their training and discipline. Jim had the remaining hunters positioned around the compound with the ultimate order; to protect the brothers at all costs. John took Bobby with him and they moved stealthily towards the fence line, they needed intel on the explosions and if there were going to be anymore.

S—D

'Dean?' Sam called out timidly, his head and eyes hurt so badly he could barely lift his head up but he needed to talk to his brother, especially now before it was too late. Sam was convinced that his life was coming to an end; in using these so-called gifts or powers he had drained nearly all of his life force and energy. 'Dean?'

'Right here Sammy,' Dean's voice came through the fog like a welcoming beacon, soft and perfectly pitched for Sam's hearing. 'Got some water for ya.'

'Thanks,' Sam sipped from the cup his brother held at his lips for him, 'feels good.'

'So what's up bro? You feeling okay?' Dean asked, placing the now empty cup on the floor he sat down on the bed next to his little brother and took a good look at Sam, a frown forming on his ruggedly handsome face as the realisation of just how bad Sam's condition is hit him. 'Sammy please talk to me, tell me what's going on in that freakish head of yours.'

'I'm not … Dean where's dad?' Sam squinted up at his brother's face trying to clearly make out his features. 'Is he alright?'

'He's fine, all blustering and commanding again,' Dean said with a chuckle, 'and I can tell ya kiddo I didn't mind handing command back to him,'

'That be right and I don't blame ya at all,' Sam said as he reached out for Dean's hand and in an uncharacteristic move Dean caught the flailing fingers and held his hand tightly, "the no-chick-flick" rules be damned.

'What is it Sam?' He asked again his little brother's silence was beginning to unnerve him, 'what aren't ya telling me?'

'I … I'm not sure Dean but things don't feel right anymore,' Sam said turning his face away from his brother.

'Spill Sam there's something going on with ya,' Dean said as he tried to keep his temper in check, he wanted to help his brother in any way he can, but sometimes it was as frustrating as trying to pull a tooth to get information out of Sam.

'When, when I touched dad and …'

'Healed him yeah go on…'

'I felt this strange feeling it was like I wasn't in my own body anymore and then I got this pain in my head and was bleeding from my nose and ears I thought my head was going to explode.'

'Why did you do it then Sam?'

'That's the weird thing Dean … I – I couldn't not do it, as soon as I touched dad it happened I didn't even know what was happening to begin with and then … I have no control over it Dean and I think it's gonna end up killing me.' Once Sam started speaking he couldn't stop himself and the words almost ran together in the end.

Although Dean felt his blood run cold when Sam finally got it out; a shudder ran through his already tense muscles as the implications of Sam's words hit him. This so-called gift can be a death sentence for Sam, if it kicks in as soon as Sam touches someone in need of healing he's either condemned to death or to a life time without any physical contact with anyone, the risk would be too great.

'Dean?' Sam's quiet voice finally broke through Dean's morose reverie and he finally looked up at his baby brother. 'Say something please Dean.'

'Ah Sammy we're gonna work this out I promise,' Dean said trying to sound as positive as he could, 'anyway for all we know it might have just been a one off thing?'

'It happened with Bobby and Rufus I couldn't stop it.' Sam said with a soft sigh, 'and with Cal I can feel it pulling me already to heal him.'

'Don't you frigging dare Sam, you are to stay away from him and anyone who's injured.' Dean snapped. 'I mean it Sam.'

'Okay I – I don't know how to stop it though Dean.' Sam lifted his tainted green eyes towards his brother and was still able to give him the full on puppy dog stare complete with unshed tears.

'Dammit Sammy!'

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**Chapter Nine:**

**Then:**

_'Dean?' Sam's quiet voice finally broke through Dean's morose reverie and he finally looked up at his baby brother. 'Say something please Dean.'_

_'Ah Sammy we're gonna work this out I promise,' Dean said trying to sound as positive as he could, 'anyway for all we know it might have just been a one off thing?'_

_'It happened with Bobby and Rufus I couldn't stop it.' Sam said with a soft sigh, 'and with Cal I can feel it pulling me already to heal him.'_

_'Don't you frigging dare Sam, you are to stay away from him and anyone who's injured.' Dean snapped. 'I mean it Sam.'_

_'Okay I – I don't know how to stop it though Dean.' Sam lifted his tainted green eyes towards his brother and was still able to give him the full on puppy dog stare complete with unshed tears._

_'Dammit Sammy!'_

Now:

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world  
Like a Colossus; and we petty men  
Walk under his huge legs, and peep about  
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.  
Men at some time are masters of their fates:  
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,  
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

(Julius Caesar 1.2.135)

S—D

The heavy mantle of midnight hung over the quiet compound; the sentries marked their places and kept time with each other as they prowled the perimeters, weapons at the ready and eyes sharp for intruders but for now it was silent and still.

Flasks of coffee substitute sat at each station hot and sustaining for them as the chill of the witch's hour also brought about the frostiness of dawn. Their eyes trained for any disturbance outside the fences and buildings none took notice of the lone figure trudging through the complex. Moving slow but determinably towards the objective of the hunt; not a prey or victim but the one in need of help; there was no sound heard or movement seen but he made his way with a resoluteness of a soldier on the front line.

He knew that Dean had Caleb moved from the main medical unit to another part of the complex in a bid to separate him from Sam's need to heal. This latest gift was terrifying as it was miraculous; Sam had virtually brought his father back from death and had healed Rufus and Bobby with just a touch of his hand; but it was killing Sam.

In a perverted twist of fate the gift of returning life to others was taking directly from Sam's life force. Unable to stop himself Sam had to be physically pulled away from anyone he came across with an injury. That very morning while getting some breakfast, Sam felt himself drawn to a hunter who had just come in with a bullet wound to the upper arm. It was just a flesh wound with the bullet passing straight through the fleshy part of his upper arm and it took only a handful of seconds for Sam to heal him, leaving the young hunter/psychic weak and bleeding from his nose and eyes. As quickly as Dean could he got him out of the dining room only for Sam to collide into another man as they rounded a corner. The man had sprained an ankle while on patrol and was back in command for two weeks light duties. The collision caught Sam unaware and he found himself healing the injured joint before he or Dean could stop it. The rest of the day Sam had spent in bed, suffering from shock, exhaustion and a migraine like he had never had before. His heart had started to race and his blood pressure shot up exponentially, terrifying not only himself but his family as well.

With Caleb still so ill and close to death Dean took matters into his own hands and had him shifted to another part of the complex where the doctors had easier access to him and there was less chance of infection from contact with the others. It was better for both his friend and for his brother but it killed Dean to make such a decision. Sam was depressed already and for him to find out he couldn't have contact with Caleb or anyone who had any type of injury or illness. One of Sam's greatest fears was to be alone, and this so-called gift was feeding that and other fears he had.

Moving in a trance-like state Sam used the walls to keep himself upright and as a guide the urge to heal held him hostage inside his own body; his own mind. 'Gotta find him … Dean help me please … find him.' Sam whispered but no one came to help him as he was inexorably drawn to where Caleb lay.

S—D

John sipped his morning coffee and stood staring out his office window, he knew it was a bad habit and one that he should break because he was making himself a target for any sniper out there but it was one of the few things that held some normalcy for him in this shitty world.

More so now than ever before; after having a demon riding inside of him and trying to destroy the fragile relationship he had maintained with the boys especially Sam, John felt the need to take each chance of embracing life he was given. 'Life given,' he snorted and took another long sip, 'my own son gave me my life back and I tried to kill him.'

The guilt weighed heavily on John's shoulders and was the cause of his constant headaches and tight chest. Even though the doctor had given him a clean bill of health; John knew that these were reminders that will never go away or heal. Yes, his heart is still beating and yes he can think and act freely but there were consequences and remnants that will be his cross to bear.

'Ah Mary you'd be so proud of our baby boy,' he smiled gently and pressed his hand against the frosted glass, his gaze fixed on a face only he could see, 'he saved me Mary, he saved my life and all I ever do is …'

'_Hush John don't do this to yourself, Sam loves you and he willingly helped you just as Dean would've done if he was in Sam's place.'_

'I certainly haven't been father of the year lately, this war Mary it's taking more and more from my soul … I don't know how much more I can give without…'

_'Don't do this to yourself John, the boys both love you and know that you're in a position few envy. But think of the alternative John … what would have happened if you hadn't been here to take charge. Your military and hunting backgrounds … very few have both experiences and are as good as you. Trust your own instincts John they are seldom wrong.'_

'They were wrong about our boy Mary, they were wrong about Sam.'

_'No they weren't, they were corrupted into your thinking that they were … deep down you know you have never doubted Sam or Dean. I have watched you over the years, I know the sacrifice you made John no one else knows but I do…'_

'How Mary, I have never told a living soul … yeah I know you're not living but my God Mary you are a beautiful soul living or not.'

_'Flatterer! You always knew just the right thing to say to me John.'_

'And yet I always screw up when I try to say anything to the boys especially Sam.' John sighed and leant his aching forehead against the coolness of the glass, 'gonna be a nice day today Mary … heavy frosts.'

A discrete cough behind him made John swear and slop the last of his coffee as he twisted around to see who his intruder was, 'what is it Singer?'

'And morning to you too,' Bobby groused as he went over to the side board and poured himself a cup of coffee, 'want a refill?'

'Yeah why not … the boys up yet?' John sat down at his desk and stared unseeingly at the pile of papers Bobby had dropped when he had come in. 'What's all of this?'

'The usual shit, welcome back Commander,' Bobby said as he gave his friend a grin and pulled out a small flask from his pocket, 'need some flavouring?'

'You have to ask?' John countered returning Bobby's grin, 'so you didn't say … the boys up yet?'

'Dunno, haven't seen Dean yet which means he's either sound asleep or he's annoying his brother.'

'Wrong again Bobby,' Dean said as he limped into his father's office, 'I'm on the hunt for coffee and for a certain little brother.'

'Sam's not with you?' John dropped the papers and gave his eldest son his full attention, 'have you checked the bathrooms?'

'Yeah and the mess and .,..'

'Infirmary?' Bobby asked, watching as the realisation simultaneously hit both Winchesters, 'the idjits gone to heal Caleb.'

'Son of bitch!' Dean yelled, 'he didn't even know I had Cal shifted or to where and yet he's gone to heal him…'

'Calm down Dean, going off isn't going to help anyone, including yourself,' John ordered although all of his fatherly instincts screamed at him to run and to search for Sam there and then. 'Has he said any more to you about this Healing gift?'

'Yeah he said that … it's like being pulled against his will towards whoever is injured or sick. That the need to heal overrides anything and everything but each time he heals,' Dean ran his hands over his face, scrubbing tiredly at his eyes, 'each time he heals it's like a piece of him dies in order to do it … the healing is literally taking from his life force.'

'It's killing him in other words,' John finished for Dean and in a very similar manner he too ran his hands over his face as he tried to come to terms with the news himself. 'We're not losing Sam now or anytime soon, where did you put Caleb?'

'In the west wing closer to the Doctor's quarters, I figured it would be easier all around for the Doc and far enough away from Sam, damn it obviously I was wrong.'

'That's enough Dean, no one's to blame hell we have no idea where this so-called gift or curse has come from.'

'You two idjits go and git him, I'm gonna start lookin' into this Healing business,' Bobby said taking John's seat behind the desk, 'well whatcha standin' around for? Hoping to git better looking? Sorry but that boat left years ago for the both of ya.'

'Oh so funny Singer, don't get too comfortable will ya,' John said as he downed his coffee and grabbed his jacket, 'I'm not gonna be long,'

'jist keepin' it warm for ya, now git!' Bobby pulled some large books out of a bag no one had noticed he had before this and started to make meticulous notes.

The Winchesters shared an incredulous look and then left the older man to his research they had one errant younger member of their family to wrangle.

S—D

Caleb opened his eyes and yawned, stretching his felt lazy but well enough to get up and to for a run if he felt like it but for now he was content in lying in the warm bed and enjoying the comfort.

'What the hell is going on?' he said as he sat up and stared around, 'ahh fuck it Sam please tell me you didn't…' Caleb added when he looked down and found Sam on the floor and slumped against the bed, twin tracks of red ran down his chin and throat staining his ratty looking T-shirt. 'Sam come on buddy wake up for me.'

Climbing out of the bed, Caleb ignored the chill of the floor and crouched down next to the younger man where he could give him a close looking-over. At first glance it appeared that Sam was only sleeping, but there was no reaction to his voice or to his touch, the kid was out cold.

Shivering slightly Caleb jumped up and found a robe to put on and then went back to lift Sam onto the bed and cover him with the blankets; making sure that Sam was at least warm and comfortable the now healed hunter hurried over to the door and started to yell for help, not wanting to leave Sam alone for any amount of time even a few seconds.

'Hey Doc can you get in here now!' Caleb yelled again and then on hearing some footsteps running towards his room, he went back in and perched himself on the bed, he pressed the back of his hand against Sam's forehead and felt the beginnings of a fever prickling his skin. 'Doc need ya in here now.' He said again as he turned and watched the door expectantly.

'Sam?' Doctor Richard Hicks ran into the room closely followed by Nurse Debbie Flynn, they had left the clinic when a second wave of demonic soldiers came through mindlessly destroying and killing anything that they came across. They killed indiscriminately ripping apart bodies and leaving the pieces where they fell. There was no reasoning, no battle plans, and no logic just mindless and senseless slaughter of any remaining humans.

Rick and Debbie were able to escape barely, the clinic providing the creatures with enough prey to keep them occupied. His heart filled with remorse and guilt Rick tried to euthanise as many as he could before they left. The few who were bed ridden, elderly and young, he gave them a chance to die with dignity and in peace rather than to face the monsters and their brutality.

With others joining them as they travelled Rick and Debbie followed the maps towards the Hunter's command post and to safety. Dean had slipped the doctor a note authorising him and giving him entry to the compound if he ever needed it. It took them close to a month to travel on foot, hiding mostly at night and travelling during the day when the monsters seemed to sleep. By the time the group had arrived at the command clearing centre their numbers had grown to twenty two, seventeen adults, three children and two babies, one baby born on the way. Leaving their charges at the clearing centre the doctor and nurse immediately went to work at the main command centre, both kept busy with the steady influx of injured soldiers and hunters. Suddenly they had become military medics and sworn into service.

'Sorry Doc but who are you?' Caleb asked moving to stand protectively in front of Sam, 'where's Doctor Morton?'

'He's delivering a baby at the clearing centre, you got me I'm Doctor Richard Hicks but you can call me …'

'Rick!' Dean said as he limped forward and greeted the doctor, 'didn't think I'd see you again.'

'Same here Dean, we got attacked again this time it was … anyway here I am and ready to see Sam again.'

'Sam?' Dean stepped up next to Caleb, clapped his friend on the shoulder and then gave his younger brother his full attention. 'Oh God Sammy what have ya done kiddo?'

'Sorry Dean I didn't even know…'

'Aint your fault Cal,' Dean said without looking up, 'has he woken up yet?'

'Nope not yet,' Caleb said as he moved out of Rick's way and down to his commanding officer, 'John … Sir I …'

'Relax Caleb and it's good to see you up and moving again my friend.' John said gripping Caleb's forearm, in the age old warrior's greeting, 'and don't apologise, you wouldn't have had any choice in the matter even if you knew what was happening.'

'What's going on with … oh Sam's healing ability?' Caleb asked as he returned his attention to his young friend, 'is he going to be alright?'

'Yeah I'm sure of it,' John said after a slight hesitation that said so much more than any words.

S—D

'What's going on Dean?' Rick asked as he continued his examination of Sam, 'Deb can you get me his BP and pulse?'

'Yes Doctor,' Debbie said as she forced herself not to notice the handsome brothers Winchester and the semi-naked young man unconscious on the bed, even ill and still suffering from previous abuse he was … beautiful.

'Long story short Doc, after we left you Sam was kidnapped and held hostage by one of the boss demons, he also had dad and the others,' Dean explained succinctly, 'we're not sure how or why but Sam was either given or developed a Healing ability … like a physical empathy I guess, if he is near anyone sick or injured he has to heal them. He healed dad after he was clinically dead from injuries and heart failure, Bobby and Rufus after torture … but every time he heals someone … it's killing him slowly but surely. We tried to separate him from Caleb … not that we wanted Caleb to …'

'I didn't want him to heal me anyway Doc, I saw what it did to him with the others and tried to … he still found me somehow I woke up and found him slumped against the bed, freezing cold but he still felt hot to the touch.'

Rick listened intently as he worked, his mind racing with trying to comprehend everything and trying to work out his best treatment for Sam. 'Deb can you go and check to see if there's some fever reducer or anything we can use to help bring Sam's temp down?'

'Certainly Doctor, do you want me to bring in an IV kit?'

'Yep and set up a saline solution for now, we have to get some fluids into him,' Rick said sounding a little distracted as he listened to Sam's chest, 'does he have the nose bleeds often?'

'Mainly after he has a vision, does a healing actually anything to do with psychic stuff,' Dean said in answer when no one else including his father offered any information. 'What's wrong Rick?'

'His chest sounds a little congested, but considering everything else …'

'Whatcha saying is … Sam's got a cold?' Dean almost laughed, 'after everything else Sam has picked up just an ordinary old chest cold?'

'Seems like it,' Rick said understanding Dean's amusement, 'as funny as it seems yep it sure does seem like it.'

'Dang it all kiddo you sure do things all the way,' Dean shook his head in disbelief and chanced a quick glance at his father, 'he's got a cold Dad, a simple run of the mill cold.'

'Damn Sammy.' John muttered and shook his head in disbelief, he was prepared for some earth-shattering, life-threatening, bizarre and cruel disease or injury caused by whatever the demon did to Sam, but his biggest hurdle is a common chest cold.

'Although there can be complications, Sam needs rest more than anything and plenty of liquids along with some paracetamol for his low-grade fever and the aches and pains usually associated with a cold.' Rick said as he stood up and turned to face the infamous John Winchester. 'Any questions before I keep going with Sam's examination?'

After answering a couple more questions from John about Sam's current health issues Rick returned to his patient and finished his examination. Aside from some mucous on his tonsils Sam's throat had healed nicely, and the swelling and bruising were nearly all back to within normal. The bruise on his chest had now faded to a mottled greenish-yellow and the sponginess around the broken ribs was gone. He was definitely on the mend, aside from the cold and effects from this latest healing.

He had already heard what had happened with John and Sam before his meeting the boys and then with what happened after the boys had left the clinic but he hadn't been told anything specific including about the visions or the healing. His patient was certainly a unique young man.

While Debbie set up the IV and fussed over Sam a little more Rick took the time to give Caleb an exam and cleared him for active duty, and then he moved on to check Dean and John making sure that they were all as healthy as they could be given the circumstances under which they all lived.

S—D

Two Days Later:

Sam sat up in his own bed with a novel open on his lap and a tiny sliver of drool escaped from the corner of his mouth as he napped; napping had become his favourite pastime lately, or so it seemed. Outwardly he appeared to be happy and relaxed but Dean knew his brother too well and knew that Sam was hiding the truth. His little brother was hurting and suffering from deep depression and who could blame him? Aside from his doctor, Debbie the nurse, his dad, Dean and Bobby no one else was allowed in the room with him. At first it was to contain his cold as much as possible but now it was to protect him from the need to heal.

'Sam, hey Sammy you in there?' Dean tapped his brother's cheek lightly, he was determined that Sam was not going to wallow in his depression for much longer. 'Come on dude wakey, wakey I'm bored.'

'De-Dean what is it?' Sam mumbled and irritably swiped at his brother's hand, 'go 'way.'

'Sorry no can do dude, I'm bored.' Dean said as he once again started to pat Sam's cheek.

'Go and annoy dad then.'

'Nope he's in a meeting with the head honchos, come on Sam please,' he whined a small knowing grin forming as he watched Sam start to wake up and smile despite himself. 'Feel like getting outta here?'

'Out? How? I can't go near anyone…'

'Hang on before you go all emo on me again …' Dean said cutting into his brother's excuses, 'I have these supa-doopa gloves for ya to try, I figure if you wear your sleeves down and all of your normal layers and these gloves then the chance of you having skin to skin contact is down to a minimum.'

'But the healing forces me too…'

'Yeah well I've been thinking bout that too, what if the doc can give ya something just enough to keep ya calm and relaxed but not enough to knock ya out or zombiefy ya or anything.'

'There's no such word as zombiefy Dean.'

'Yeah well there is now,' Dean pouted for a second and then grinned again, 'so whatcha think wanna give it a go?'

'Why not,' Sam nodded, 'you be with me?'

'All the way dude.'

An hour later they had Sam up and dressed, with his normal layers of T-shirts, shirts and topped off with a hoodie, his jeans, thick socks and boots and leather gloves he felt like a turkey trussed up for Thanksgiving dinner but at least he was able to get out.

'I'm gonna swelter in all of this.' He grumbled lightly.

'Dude you wear this stuff no matter what time of year,' Dean countered the argument, 'so where do you want to go Princess?'

'Anywhere but here,' Sam finally smiled showing off his deep dimples; he was finally getting a chance to break free.

S—D

Dean and Sam stood and stared at the non-descript looking van in front of them, 'so your chariot awaits Princess.' Dean quipped although his mirth didn't reach his eyes.

'Where's the 'pala?' Sam cried out upset at the thought that their only home was no more.

'Calm down dude, dad and I discussed our outing today and we thought it was better if we didn't attract any unwanted attention for your first time out since well …'

'Dean no … not if …'

'Listen doofus I agree with dad, anyway they'd be looking for the Impala so while we're out and about Bobby said that he's gonna personally give her a service and repair a few things. It's a win, win for me anyway I get to get outta here with you in shotgun and mah baby gets some serious pandering too.'

'Dean you are …' Sam said laughing aloud his eyes shining brightly, 'you are too funny and…'

'Okay enough yucks do ya wanna go or wanna stand there and laugh all day?'

'Go, totally go.' Sam hiccupped back his last few chuckles and climbed into the shotgun seat. 'You coming or what?'

S—D

'What the hell?' Dean exclaimed as a small spear seemingly flew towards their windscreen; easing his foot down on the brake he expertly manhandled the van off the road and onto the shoulder. He followed a track for a while taking them safely off-road and hidden under the trees from any aerial spies. Another spear came whistling through the air and landed harmlessly a few feet away from the van. 'What the hell is going on?'

'Ah Dean over there,' Sam pointed out his window where a line of shadowy figures started; one by one they became surrounded. 'What do you think is going on?'

"Dunno but it's not gonna go on for much longer,' Dean grumbled annoyed at their drive being interrupted.

A whoop and high-pitched war-cry filled the now silent area followed by a shower of homemade arrows and spears, none of them lethal but could do some injury if anyone was unlucky enough to be hit.

'Now wait just a minute!' Dean declared as he climbed out of the van and took on an imposing stance, 'who the hell are you and why are you firing on us?'

'We kill all demons!' a young voice yelled over the din of cheering, whooping and cat-calls.

'Yeah well so do we!' Dean answered his voice rising slightly; he was getting more than angry now.

'Dean!' Sam called his brother for the third time before climbing out of the van and appearing at his brother's side, 'Dean!'

'Get back in the van Sammy I've got this,' Dean ordered annoyed at his brother for leaving the safety of the vehicle.

'Dean look … they're kids, they're all … kids.' Sam said as he pointed at the group surrounding them.

'What the hell?' Dean muttered as he squinted at them his temper rising even more, 'what the hell are kids doing out here firing on us with homemade arrows and spears?'

'Dunno but … Dean we gotta help em dude.' Sam said determinedly.

'Sam no, no we don't. All we gotta do is get you some rest and relaxation and then get back to the compound before dark.'

'Hey we're the ones who have you prisoners.' One of the young people called out as haughtily as he could.

'Yeah you and whose army?' Dean yelled back earning a swipe on his shoulder from Sam.

'Dude!'

'Dean please,' Sam pulled out a full on puppy pout and eyes, 'we have to help them, they're just kids.'

Heaving a big sigh and sounding as put upon as he could without giving away anything Dean threw his brother an annoyed look as he moved closer to their "captors".

'I'm Dean Winchester …'

'Winchester … Winchester … Winchester … Winchester …' the kids surrounding them repeated their surname in a loop of hushed reverence, 'ahhh Winchesters.'

'Youse be really Winchesters?' A boy of no more than fourteen or fifteen asked stepping forward to meet Dean and Sam.

'Yeah I'm Dean and this is my brother Sam … who and what are you?'

'I be Callum commander of the twenty-eighth brigade and these be my men.'

'How old are you Callum?' Sam asked curiosity thick in his voice.

'I be fifteen next birth day … what consequence be that?' Callum asked frowning he turned to stare up at Sam, 'how old be you?'

'Older than you … we both are and mind who you're addressing, we're both superiors to you and your _cough _men.' Dean answered narrowing his eyes with suspicion as he regarded Callum and then the others.

'Sir,' Callum admitted grudgingly before snapping to attention and saluting his superior officers, 'we be traispin' for days and days and days. Fightin' and hidin' … we did lose those who fell aside.'

Dean glanced up at his brother and then back to the teenage leader, standing an inch shorter than Dean, Callum had a stocky build but was so starved a strong wind would blow him over, his sandy coloured hair was long and unkempt pulled back into an untidy ponytail with a knotted leather strap. His piercing blue eyes were disarming when he stared directly into anyone's eyes, as though he could see right through into the depths of the person's soul. 'So Quarterback where have ya'll come from?' Dean asked and returned the salute while smiling to himself when Callum blushed at being called a Quarterback.

Sam watched and listened to the discussion forming between his brother and Callum, a chill ran down his spine as he realised that Callum was only two years younger than him. He let his gaze drift from one to another, they were all around the same age, the youngest possibly twelve and Callum seemed to be the eldest or perhaps he was the most experienced fighter in the group either way the small band of teenage warriors followed his every lead without hesitation. _Dad would just love you guys_, the thought came unbidden and for some reason saddened the youngest of the Winchester men.

'We's come from all abouts, mainly from Nevada an' Colorado way.' Callum said still watching them with an air of suspicion, 'we's got a camp back a ways.'

'Where are you headed?' Sam asked his voice softer than Dean's but carried just as loudly, 'this is dangerous territory.'

'We want to join up with the Hunter Elite.' Callum said as he squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest a little more. Dean had to bite back a chuckle when he took in the kid and saw a little of himself in him at the same age.

'Don't be in too much of a hurry to grow up kid.' He growled lightly.

'Most of us have been in more battles than birthin' days.' Callum said pride bright in his blue eyes, 'Luka there he lost his brothers and his left hand in the Chicago skirmishes, was his tenth battle and he's thirteen. Max he's twelve and the bastards took his tongue 'fore we could get him back,' Callum went to go on with his litany of injuries and atrocities his team had suffered at the hands of the demonic armies from the pits but Dean had already heard more than he wanted.

'How about you guys climb into the van and we take ya back to yer camp?' Dean asked, the surprised looks quickly morphed into ones of borderline bliss as they settled into the vehicle; Dean felt his heart prickle and constrict as he watched them, a simple ride was bliss to them and it broke his hardened hunter's heart.

'You okay Dean?' Sam asked watching his older brother carefully.

'M'fine Sammy, how bout you? You dealing okay with them?'

'Me? Yeah m'fine,' Sam repeated the stock-standard Winchester response to health questions, 'honestly I am there's no really strong pull so far, I can control it Dean.' Sam assured him. Satisfied finally Dean nodded and started the van, 'okay Callum where to?'

S—D

After driving for nearly half an hour Callum directed Dean off the road and then down a winding stretch hugging sheer cliffs tightly. Even with his expert handling of the van, Dean was cursing the falling rocks and rubble littering the dirt track passing miserably for a road.

'Stop here Dean,' Callum said and then jumped out of the van before it came to a complete stop, with a quick glance around him Callum crept towards what appeared to be a dead end, filled with fallen trees and branches, rocks and others large pieces of debris. Suddenly, the largest of the trees moved smoothly to the sides, and then within minutes the road was clear. Grinning Callum ran back to the van and stood on the foot-hole on the driver's side door and held the mirror tightly, 'okay drive on through Dean.'

After passing through the barricade Callum directed Dean to a small clearing surrounded by trees and a small watering hole. Pulling up next to the water Dean and Sam waited for all of the kids to pile out before they got out behind them.

'It's alright it's the Winchester brothers.' Callum announced and gradually more faces appeared, by the time they had finished coming out of hiding Sam had counted thirty two children, roughly aged from eleven to fourteen.

'Are there any adults amongst you?' Sam asked peering at the sea of faces surrounding them, he had never felt so much like a giant before as he did right there and then; he actually towered over the children. He was the same height as Dean now and with the aches and pains he had in his legs and arms from time to time he knew that he was still growing; much to his older brother's dismay.

'Just be us Sir,' Callum answered succinctly, 'we has no grown-nups left.'

'Where are they?' Sam asked his empathy growing and he could feel that now familiar tug on his emotions and his reserves of strength. 'What happened to them?'

'Mostly died in battle or they got Croats.' The boy Callum had called Luka piped up, 'they's deaded fast with Croats.'

The soft mewls of an infant made both Dean and Sam run towards the sound; they both paled and felt sick when they saw the young mother trying to suckle a malnourished and dying baby. 'Callum?' Dean turned ready to yell at the teen-leader for allowing it to happen in his platoon when he saw the tears running down the kid's face.

'This here is Tess an' her bub … we's rescued her from the demons and then she dropped the bub a few days later. Didn't know what tah do but what else could we do?' Callum looked up at the Winchesters as though they had all of the answers for him and the others. That they could fix it all.

'Dean?' Sam's pain-filled utterance of his name brought Dean out of his temporary stupor, 'Dean I – I have too…'

'No, no Sam it'll kill ya.'

'No … no I'm stronger now and I think I can control it,' Sam looked down at the stricken baby and realised it was no longer crying. Without another word he dropped the gloves on the ground and moved towards the mother and child. His movements jerky and uncoordinated

Sam dropped to his knees, without feeling the pain of the impact or from his still healing injuries. His entire body, mind and soul were focused solely on healing the pitiful sight in front of him. With a shaking hand he reached out and tentatively placed it on the baby a gasp of pain and shock slipped from his lips and all he could see was the small boy and his puppy who had died in front of them not so long ago. He couldn't help them but this time, steeling his flagging resolve Sam lifted his hand from the baby's head and placed his palm on the mother's forehead. Glassy eyes fixed on his face and her lips moved soundlessly as he allowed whatever it was to flood through his hand and into her body, infusing her with warmth and healing.

Dean and the others all stood back shielding their eyes as the brightness became too much for them, impatiently he tried to get near his brother but the intensity of the light and heat pushed him back again and utterly distraught all he could do was wait it out.

Finally, the light was gone as quickly as it came and in its wake laid the young girl and her baby both looking healthier and relaxed. Next to them laid Sam, his hand still lying across the baby's leg. His skin was so pale it appeared transparent contrasted with the deep ruby red of his blood staining his upper lip, chin, and throat before soaking into the collar of his hoodie.

Dean held his own breath and watched Sam's chest, only releasing it when he saw the slight rise and fall. Sam was still alive, the aftermath of such an event was still to be seen but for now Dean was content with the fact that his brother was still alive.

'Wha' … what jist 'appened?' Callum asked his wild gaze flying from Dean to Sam to Tess to the baby and then back to Dean, 'Dean wha' did he do?'

'Saved their lives … Sam's a touch empath he can heal people with his touch.' Dean said deciding on the simplest explanation of the truth and it sounded less incriminating than anything else.

'But, but why does he look so … dead?'

'Coz it takes a lot out of him, the sicker or more hurt they are the more it hurts Sam,' Dean said although his words carried no heat or accusation; he had to keep the children calm around them for Sam's sake, his brother was too vulnerable right now for conflicts of any kind.

'Wow, he be a miracle worker.' The children whispered all in awe of what had happened and suddenly Dean found himself in the middle of a whirlwind of activity. Choking back a sob and a giggle Dean dropped down next to his brother and tugged until his brother's head was resting comfortably on his lap. Deep down Dean knew that they both needed the physical contact between them, silently he offered Sam his own strength and begged him to take it, to heal himself just as he had healed the young mother and her baby.

'Shit you certainly can pick em Sammy that's for sure!'

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**Chapter Ten:**

**Then:**

_'Wha' … what jist 'appened?' Callum asked his wild gaze flying from Dean to Sam to Tess to the baby and then back to Dean, 'Dean wha' did he do?'_

_'Saved their lives … Sam's a touch empath he can heal people with his touch.' Dean said deciding on the simplest explanation of the truth and it sounded less incriminating than anything else._

_'But, but why does he look so … dead?' _

_'Coz it takes a lot out of him, the sicker or more hurt they are the more it hurts Sam,' Dean said although his words carried no heat or accusation; he had to keep the children calm around them for Sam's sake, his brother was too vulnerable right now for conflicts of any kind._

_'Wow, he be a miracle worker.' The children whispered all in awe of what had happened and suddenly Dean found himself in the middle of a whirlwind of activity. Choking back a sob and a giggle Dean dropped down next to his brother and tugged until his brother's head was resting comfortably on his lap. Deep down Dean knew that they both needed the physical contact between them, silently he offered Sam his own strength and begged him to take it, to heal himself just as he had healed the young mother and her baby._

_'Shit you certainly can pick em Sammy that's for sure!' _

**Now:**

A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,  
But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

(Julius Caesar 4.3.86)

S—D

Dean carefully extricated himself from beneath Sam's head and made sure that he was comfortable and warm before leaving him under Tess' watchful gaze. He found Callum and Luka sitting near a fire with a few of the other children crouched closed by.

'Is he gonna be alright?' Callum asked looking up at Dean.

'Yeah he just needs some rest for now, so Callum you guys serious in wanting to join the Hunter elite?'

'Yes sir, we sure am,' Callum said nodding eagerly, 'we be trained and ready to fight the good fight alongside ya'll.'

'We do have a small problem with transport I can't fit all of you into the van…'

'We's be talkin' bout just that,' Callum interrupted Dean, he leant closer to the older man and gave him a small knowing nod, 'we's been hard at it thinkin' on hows we can git all of us to ya HQ.'

'You have huh?' Dean couldn't help but grin, Callum and the others were starting to grow on him, 'so what's the plan?'

'Well we's been thinkin' that Tess and the bub, and all the little ones, and younguns should go wif ya and then me and the rest will be walkin' if ya don't mind…'

'What if I take as many as we can fit in, and then come back for the rest of ya … we can meet where we first met.'

'Sounds like a plan in da makin' Sir.' Callum said with a grin, 'we be's much humbled to ya'll for ya helpin' us.'

'Callum … can I ask you something and if you don't want to answer then that's okay…'

'You wanna know if any of us be schooled at all?' Callum asked displaying a maturity and insight far exceeding his tender years, 'tis okkies nope the demons came afore I could really member what was going on. They took our oldies first and then tha …'

'Hey it's okay Call I get the picture of what happened, your town must've been in the way of the first wave…'

'Dunno jist we always be like this.' Callum shrugged and wiped the moisture from his eyes, 'me big bro Kevin was tooked and we's neva sees him agin.'

'We'll look after you guys and will be proud to have you all joining the Elite.' Dean said huskily.

'Scusin' me Sirs but Mista Sam be wake now.' Tess said as she appeared in the doorway, her baby tucked safely against her side, 'me babe's doin' much betta thank ya Sir.'

'Name's Dean not Sir and I'm pleased to hear that,' Dean said with a smile as he got up and went over to peer at the tiny human. The little girl stirred and blinked up at him, her bright blue eyes sparkled as she cooed and reached out at Dean with a tiny hand, 'she's beautiful Tess what's her name?'

'Hum dunno Sir Dean what be yer brother called?'

'Sam …'

'Bout Sammy-Girl?'

'That sounds perfect, Sam can be short for Samantha too that's a nice girl's name,' Dean grinned as he thought of all of the teasing he can do with that little bit of knowledge.

'Sam – Samantha?' Tess smiled brightly and looked down at her little girl, 'Sammy-girl ya be lucky girl alright.'

'That she is Tess, that she is,' Dean said in agreement before excusing himself to go and check on his own Sam.

S—D

'So Sleeping Beauty how ya feeling?' Dean asked smiling happily when he saw his brother sitting up and sipping some water, 'you're looking better.'

'M'fine Dean, still feel a little weak but better thanks,' Sam said looking up at his brother, 'so what's going on?'

'We're gonna take as many as we can back to the compound and then I'll come back and get the others, think we can help em.'

'They're just kids Dean and they've been through so much,' Sam said his smile disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

'Yeah they are but don't you dare getting all down about it, they're just the same as all of us humans trying to survive this war.'

'Yeah I know it's just…'

'Yeah I know no education … nothing by the sounds of it they were some of the first to be hit.'

'Ah man then … then some of them may have been born to prisoners?'

'Never thought of that I think that they're freeborn like us but…'

'Yeah so where you gonna take em first, the clearing centre?'

'Will have to they have to have checks and physicals we can't let em jump queue I guess.'

'Dad's gonna love em you realise that don't you?' Sam grinned and held his hand out to his brother, 'help me?'

'Oh Sam Tess has named her baby,' Dean said while he helped Sam up and braced him until he was able to stand on his own.

'Yeah what is it?' Sam asked and then immediately regretted it when he saw the gleam in Dean's eyes.

'Well Dean's just too manly for a little girl so she's named her Sammy-girl.'

'Dean!'

'True Sammy I wouldn't kid ya bout that, Samantha but Sammy-girl for short.' Dean chuckled, 'always knew that you were a girl and now you got one named after ya.'

S—D

Under the cover of darkness Dean pulled the van into the clearing centre, the first step refugees made on their way to re-assimilation into the population or to join up and train with the corps. The centre was currently housed in an old school building all but destroyed in one of the most violent demonic attacks of the area. The demons attacked the school during school hours and had massacred the students and teachers in their classrooms. Those that had survived were taken into slavery or for food. After burying the remains of those who had died and cleaning the building as much as possible; a committee was formed and gradually they had the first of many clearing centres up and running.

Classrooms were now large dorms for refugees to sleep in, the cafeteria now fed people from all walks of life, and the showers were restricted and guarded to make sure that everyone had a chance to use them regularly without stress; likewise with the toilets, making sure that they were kept up and sexes were separated for the sake of the small children living there.

Each new arrival is assessed and interviewed, from there they are given a small welcome pack, a list of instructions on living at the centre and then a series of interviews to see where they would benefit the most after clearance was given.

Families are assessed together and all children over the age of twelve were expected to put their names up for work or for training in the corps.

They often left the centre within a month of arriving and there were very few who were considered security risks, those who were, were taken quietly out of the population and placed into military holding cells. These were often empty warehouses, lined with cells and guarded by elite guards who were not trained hunters but had either police or military training.

The entire process had worked successfully since the first attacks and was most likely the biggest reason that the remaining humans had not turned on themselves or reverted back to their baser instincts instead of fighting for their survival against supernatural enemies.

S—D

Dean told Sam to wait for him in the van; the worst thing for his younger brother at the moment was to be surrounded by people and their suffering. No matter how minor it seemed. Exhausted Sam rested his head on the back of his seat and let his eyes slide shut; he hadn't lied to Dean when he had said that he was feeling better but he was just so tired he felt as though he could sleep for a week.

His thoughts drifted back to the band of children hiding in the bush and it had him shuddering and suddenly wanting to see his dad. He was barely older than them in years but in maturity and experience they had seen so much and experienced even more, it terrified him to think that he may be on his own one day without the support of his dad or of his brother.

'Wakey, wakey Winchester,' a familiar voice filtered through Sam's thoughts startling him into wakefulness immediately.

'Wh-what are you doing here?' Sam asked his breathing ratcheted up a few knots when he went to scrub the sleep from his eyes and found his hands bound tightly, 'what's going on?'

'You and me are gonna go for a little drive, so sit back and relax kiddo.'

'Where's Dean?'

'He's ahh busy actually he's too busy to worry about you right now.'

'That's not true!' Sam said his anger at getting caught so easily fuelled his indignation and his inner Dean decided to jump in, 'let me go man this is not you!'

'How do you know that Sam, Sam, Sammy, Sammmmyyyy? Who the hell are you to tell me who I am?'

'Please let me go … I won't tell anyone we can … we can just act as though nothing has happened.'

'You really don't get it do you? This is gonna happen and it's happening now so sit back and shut up before I do it for ya.'

'Just tell me why?'

'That's it … God you really don't know when to shut up do you?'

Before Sam could answer a fist slammed into the side of his head; the force of the blow smashed his head against the window. A soft groan slipped out as Sam slumped unconsciously against the headrest; blood slowly dripped from his right ear.

S—D

After checking on Tess and her baby Dean grabbed a couple of cans of soda and jogged back out to the van. 'What the?' He yelled as he stood in the empty car park.

'Dean you okay?' Callum asked as he ran up to his new mentor and friend, 'I jist came out to say bye to Sam … where Sam?'

'That's what I'd like to know too lil dude,' Dean said as he reigned in his temper and looked at the teenager standing next to him, 'you didn't see anything then?'

'No Sir, I be's with the others waitin' till time to go get the rest, where Sam gone?'

'That's what I want to know too Cal, come on…' Dean said as he tugged Callum's arm and they ran back to the security office, 'they have security cameras on the car park maybe we can find out something.'

S—D

'Dad we've got a problem,' Dean said speaking on the phone to his father while staring in shock at the computer screen. 'A huge problem.'

_'Dean what is it? Sam?'_

'Part of it, ahh fuck dad … Sam's been snatched …'

_'Sam's what? What the hell are you talking about Dean?'_

'He stayed in the van while I took the kids into the centre, he was so tired and the risk was too great for him to be in there even for a few minutes.'

_'Yeah I agree there so what went wrong?'_

'It's all on the security tapes, everything dad I know who took him and you aint gonna believe it.'

_'Ah no not one of ours!"_

'More than just that dad, look I ahh I'll finish up here and will get back to the compound ASAP. We need someone to go and round up the rest of the kids though.'

_'See you in a few Dean.' _John said succinctly before hanging up on his shell-shocked son.

'Dean I wanna come with ya,' Callum said and stepped in front of the older man blocking his way, 'please tis mah fault Sam got hisself took.'

S—D

Sam opened his eyes and immediately regretted it; everything was blurred and swam nauseatingly in front of him. Taking a few deep breathes while he squeezed his eyes shut again; Sam slowly opened them and took another glimpse around him. This time he was more aware of his surroundings and the telltale signs of concussion were screaming at him to take notice.

The next thing he became more aware of was that he was sitting on a cold concrete floor and he was leaning against a wooden post. He was shirtless, barefoot, and was wearing a thick leather collar cinched tightly around his throat. A short leather strap was looped through a silver loop on the collar and attached to the post he was leaning against.

He had shackles on his ankles but his hands were unfettered; moving with innate slowness and awareness of his concussion Sam tested the leather strap tying him to the post, he had no chance of standing at all and the range of movement generally was practically zero, there was nothing he could do except sit in the one position.

The nausea and dizziness surged after his attempts at moving left Sam trying not to throw up but unfortunately he was fighting a losing battle. The small amount of bile and fluid in his stomach burnt like acid as it rushed up his throat and splattered down his bare chest and onto the floor.

Groaning he tried to curl in on his cramping stomach but that small move made the collar constrict around his throat; instantly choking him. Miserable and sick, Sam tried to push himself back a little to lean against the pole and to take some pressure off his throat; the burn of his acidic vomit still stung and made his stomach roil and the release of pressure for those few brief seconds was enough for him to start retching again.

'You are in a mess aren't you Sammy boy.'

'You don't get to call me that,' Sam rasped as he pushed past the stinging of his throat, the cramping of his stomach and the inability to move and glared up at his captor.

'Wow intimidating much.'

'Want do you want? Why me?'

'All in will be revealed in time,' the giggle sounded so out of place in the dinginess of the room, 'I always wanted to say that!'

'I don't understand why? Did … Did you … they possess you that's it, you got possessed?'

'If only, then that would make it all better wouldn't it Sammy boy, yeah nasty demon got inside of me, sounds much better than nope it's all me in here, finally I can be me!'

'Why?'

S—D

Dean paced the small office while his father and Bobby watched the incriminating security tape, everything in him itched to get in the impala and rip up the road looking for his missing brother but he had to follow protocol as long as his father was in charge; it stung but there was really nothing else he could do except fume inwardly.

'Do you think possession?' Bobby asked turning around to look at Dean, 'was he exhibiting any signs of possession before this?'

'Nope none … he was just the same!'

'Damn, do ya really think that he really … fuck.' Bobby stormed off, muttering under his breath and shoving his cap back and forth as his temper rose to explosive levels.

'Shit aint seen Bobby that worked up since he pulled his shotgun on me.' John muttered, 'who you taking with ya?'

'Huh?' Dean said blinking furiously as he tried to catch up with his dad's rapid thoughts, 'Rufus and Cal … and ahh Callum.'

'Who the hell is Callum?'

'One of the kids I … long story dad but he feels responsible and he's yeah he's worth taking'

'Okay your call son, just bring your brother home.'

'Yes Sir!' Dean said with a hint of a smirk but then as he was leaving he turned and looked at his father, 'I'll bring him home dad I promise.'

S—D

'Ya see Sam when Dean pegged me for the mole I knew that I had to act, you're dramatic reappearance with the others took a bit of the heat off me but it was only temporary so I decided to make my move.'

'Why?' Sam asked as he tried to really focus on the face floating in front of him, although the redness had diminished there was still the stain especially when he was tired or in pain and for now he felt as though it was back with a vengeance. The concussion only adding to his sight issues; squinting he managed to focus on the face of his captor a man up until now he had considered a friend. 'I don't understand why do this?'

'Why fight for the losing side Sammy boy?'

'I don't understand.'

'Stop tormenting the child, can't you tell he's got a headache?'

A familiar voice caught Sam's attention and slowly he tried to turn his head in the right direction. 'No, no I thought you were gone.'

'Sorry kiddo I ahh had to make a bit of a smoke screen to get outta there,' Chaz giggled at his own wordplay, 'thought though that you would be pleased to see me.'

'Why? You and Markus are working together and that should make me pleased?' Sam shook his head and immediately regretted it.

'Oh poor Sammy, oohh by the way Father sends his regards he's still in the pit but he's making some big plans for you kiddo.'

'Just leave me alone,' Sam mumbled as he tried to turn away from his tormentors when he felt hot hands on his shoulders and rubbing down his back. 'Leave me alone.' Sam repeated and pushed out with as much power as he could muster.

'Fuck you little shit,' Chaz said growling as he pulled away from the teenager wringing his hands, 'what the hell did you do?'

'Want some more? Then touch me again!' Sam said snapping angrily.

'Let me at him Chaz and I'll make him learn his place,' Markus said licking his lips with excitement, 'he can't use his hoodoo on me.'

'Hmmm interesting thought there my friend,' Chaz regarded the blisters forming on his meat-suit's hands, 'little bastard burnt me.'

'Give me a bit more time and I'll do more than burn you.' Sam said before his pain and shock took over and he willingly let himself slide into oblivion.

'So Markus what do you have in mind for our young friend here?' Chaz asked as he ran a finger down Sam's cheek, scooped a little of the still glistening fresh blood and lifted his fingertip to his lips licking it appreciatively, 'mm he does taste so good.'

'You need him to submit to you yes?' Markus asked as he watched the demon lick the blood from Sam's cheek, he could feel himself reacting physically and emotionally to the sight.

'Mm yes you could say that,' Chaz said as he continued to lick and lap at the blood staining Sam's face, he could feel just a hint of the power coursing through the human and it alone excited him more than anything had in a long time.

'Let me have him for a few hours and I will make sure he will do everything you want him to do and more,' Markus said his lascivious smirk growing as he let his imagination run wild.

'Hmm very well I have some meetings to attend so you will have some time with our young hunter but there are guidelines. I do not want him completely incapacitated physically and mentally, I enjoy his … spark. However, I do want to be able to control him and to have him compliant when I wish especially when it comes to his new gifts.'

'The Healing?'

'Yes that as well as some others he is a true wild card I need him to be submissive and obedient without losing any of his … look do whatever you want just don't permanently injure him or damage his mind too much.' Charzael said with a wave of his hand as he dropped Sam carelessly onto the floor though he did smile when he saw how awkwardly his prisoner lay in the confines of his leash.

S—D

'Damn it all to hell this is my fault dad.' Dean blurted out as he prepared to head out, his father had just joined him while he armed himself with his favourite weapons and waited for Caleb and Callum to join them.

'Like hell it is, no one could have seen this coming Dean.' John chastised his eldest son gently.

'I had suspicions of Markus dad, just before … just before you guys came back to us. I lost track of him after that he must have realised what was going on and … how could I have been so stupid.'

'Nuff of that Dean, though it explains a lot … actually it explains a helluva lot.' John said as he raked a hand through his thick dark hair tangling with the curls, 'damn need a haircut sometime in the future.'

'What does it explain dad?' Dean asked a little impatiently but he wanted to find out before Callum and Caleb came out.

'Markus was on guard duty in the command centre itself at the time … Ahh at the time I was possessed.'

'You think that he had a hand in getting the big nasty in?'

'I have a feeling that he carried it in literally carried it in,' John said a look formed on his face that made his dark eyes even darker. 'He was one of the last people I remember seeing before it all went out of control.'

'Shit dad just how far back does all of this go with Markus?'

'Dunno son but I do know this, you're gonna have to do whatever it takes to get Sam back even it if means TWERPing Markus.'

'What the hell does TWERPing mean dad?'

'Ahh an old military or rather mercenary term, basically son it is Terminate With Extreme Prejudice.'

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**Chapter Eleven:**

**Then:**

_'Damn it all to hell this is my fault dad.' Dean blurted out as he prepared to head out, his father had just joined him while he armed himself with his favourite weapons and waited for Caleb and Callum to join them._

_'Like hell it is, no one could have seen this coming Dean.' John chastised his eldest son gently._

_'I had suspicions of Markus dad, just before … just before you guys came back to us. I lost track of him after that he must have realised what was going on and … how could I have been so stupid.'_

_'Nuff of that Dean, though it explains a lot … actually it explains a helluva lot.' John said as he raked a hand through his thick dark hair tangling with the curls, 'damn need a haircut sometime in the future.'_

_'What does it explain dad?' Dean asked a little impatiently but he wanted to find out before Callum and Caleb came out._

_'Markus was on guard duty in the command centre itself at the time … Ahh at the time I was possessed.'_

_'You think that he had a hand in getting the big nasty in?'_

_'I have a feeling that he carried it in literally carried it in,' John said a look formed on his face that made his dark eyes even darker. 'He was one of the last people I remember seeing before it all went out of control.'_

_'Shit dad just how far back does all of this go with Markus?'_

_'Dunno son but I do know this, you're gonna have to do whatever it takes to get Sam back even it if means TWERPing Markus.'_

_'What the hell does TWERPing mean dad?'_

_'Ahh an old military or rather mercenary term, basically son it is Terminate With Extreme Prejudice.'_

**Now:**

Set honour in one eye and death i' the other,  
And I will look on both indifferently.

(Julius Caesar 1.2.87)

Time had no meaning; no definition anymore, counted only in waking and unconscious moments. Fractals of seconds and minutes merged together in a swirling mist surrounding all that lived and all that was non-living. Measured perhaps now in heartbeats, each beat a beat in time and in life; pain another measurement but not of time, but of existence. As long as the pain resonated life was still present.

Captured in a prison of blackness and red stains with no way of telling day from night or moment from hour; the only constant was pain and degradation. The more they were felt the more life or existence is felt.

The warehouse had been converted into a new business premises; the upper level was for business meetings with panelled walls, heavy black furniture including a large circular table in the centre of the room surrounded by tall-backed wooden chairs with intricate carvings of snakes and obscure symbols etched into the wood and blood red velvet cushioned seats.

One wall was dominated by a large window dressed with black lace and blood red velvet side curtains. It was all so formal and yet so clichéd it was the perfect place for the new demonic regime.

The ground level had a reception area decorated in much the same way as the upper floor; large vases of black and red roses broke the harshness of the décor it was foreboding and yet had a degree of intimacy for those who came in through the front door.

Downstairs was the main area of business each main room was decorated with differing themes dependant on the occupants and requirements.

The rooms all stemmed from one circular area which could be used privately or for public events; the furthest end from the main entrance held a large throne-like chair made of soft black leather a showcase of whips, floggers, swords and knives stood like a crowning glory behind it. To the right of the seat was a wooden frame, chains with metal cuffs hung from the top cross beam, two matching chains and cuff seats were fixed to the floor and on each of the side beams were hooks holding extra lengths of chains, soft leather cuffs and metal manacles. On the other side was a smaller but identical seat to the larger one with the only difference being the restraints on the arms and legs and the steel rod attached to the back of the seat with a silver ring shimmering against the blackness. Directly in front of the throne was a large plush pile crimson rug and along the walls were heavy set leather couches and a large black bar, fully stocked with an assortment of fine wines, spirits, beers and fresh blood.

Below the building, carved into the earth and rock was a series of tunnels leading to various sized dungeons, cages and cells; very medieval in appearance but very serviceable and modern.

It was in one of the cells where sixteen year old Sam Winchester was being held; he lay on his back with sightless eyes fixed on the ceiling above him. Wearing only a thin pair of black drawstring cotton pants and a leather studded collar; his unkempt hair fell in messy knots around his head and across his eyes. Traces of bruises, cuts and burns covered his paling flesh and the gauntness of his wasted muscles remained.

He had lost all sense of time and whether it was day or night; he could barely remember the last time he was outside in fresh air and sunshine. His existence had become conditioned and controlled. When the abuse and punishments became too much Sam retreated into his mind to happier times when he was with his brother Dean. Making forts out of boxes in their father's office, Dean telling him funny stories when the storms became too much and they couldn't sleep, falling asleep on his dad's knee with the feeling of being safe and loved and of laughing at the smallest of things and at his brother's antics when their dad was away hunting and fighting the enemy forces.

The first time Markus abused him Sam screamed; the hands were all over him touching, stroking and slapping him. The assault was violent and left Sam bleeding and in agony from the ripping after the forced penetration. He had never experienced or even had knowledge of something so heinous and personally destructive and it took everything in him not to retreat into the blackness forever. After the first, second and third time Sam learnt how to retreat into his memories and to let himself soar into the sky where he could fly free and without pain.

When Chaz returned to announce that they were moving Sam to the new headquarters he found a submissive and broken young man with vacant sightless eyes, wasted and skeletal in appearance. He turned to the smirking Markus with a cold, malicious stare and advanced on the human slowly with power leaking into atmosphere surrounding them.

Markus paled and backed up, he was no longer filled with his own self-importance and bravado instead he cowered in the corner and wept for mercy from his master.

'What were my express orders Markus?' Chaz asked with an icy cold tone to his voice.

'Chaz … Master please I made him submissive like you asked.' Markus said yelping in pain when Chaz delivered a stinging blow to his right cheek.

'I told you not to break him, I wanted him to keep his spark … I did not want his mind or body completely destroyed and look at him now. Your selfish need for self-gratification and sadism has sent my plans back … That is not acceptable!'

'Master please, give me a second chance…' Markus whimpered and dropped to his knees as he accepted the punishment Chaz meted out in stoic silence terrified to anger the demon anymore than he already had.

Wiping Markus' blood from his hands Chaz went over to the filthy mattress Sam was lying on and crouched down next to the traumatised youth. He studied him for a few seconds before he gathered Sam into his arms and disappeared with him.

He placed Sam in one of the cells of his newly refurbished warehouse; although it was technically a prison the small room was warm, dry and well-appointed with a single bed instead of a cot with warm blankets and a soft pillow. Even though there was no window the lighting was soft and warm and with a click of his fingers Chaz created a warm breath of air heating the small area and making it comfortable for the ailing teen instantly.

Chaz regarded his prisoner for a few minutes before summoning one of his females, told her to clean Sam up and dress his wounds, 'I want you here when I get back, I have already had my patience and temper tested today so do not even think about anything else. Oh yes and by the way if you do anything untoward in anyway shape or form to young Sam here and I will have you dismembered.'

S—D

Dean, Rufus, Caleb and Callum moved through the old building with guns drawn they moved slowly and methodically searched the first floor before moving stealthily downstairs. Finally, they found the small dungeon like area, they paired off Callum and Dean and Rufus and Caleb so they could move through the mini-maze of rooms and tunnels.

Dean kicked the door in and made sure that Callum was behind him before they rushed in. Callum started to gag with the stench of vomit, urine, blood and other bodily fluids, paling Dean stared down at the stained and rank mattress. He stood transfixed on the stains and instantly he saw Sam lying there; bleeding, in pain and terrified beyond comprehension.

A soft groan made him spin around and he stared down at the beaten and bloodied form of Markus.

'You,' Dean growled menacingly, 'where the fuck is Sam?'

'Where you'll never find him,' Markus spat out along with a large globule of blood, 'yer too late douche.'

'And yet your still here,' Dean said with a cold smile forming on his handsome face, 'Callum go and find Rufus and Caleb.'

'But Dean …'

'Now Callum … I'll stay and keep our friend here company.' Dean said as he wrenched his gaze from Markus and looked over at the terrified kid, 'go on Callum I'll be fine.'

'Okay Dean, be right back.' Callum said and bolted out of the room yelling out for Rufus and Caleb.

Dean turned back to Markus, his green eyes glittered with pent up rage and a deathly calm that made Markus shiver and realise that Chaz was nothing compared to this version of Dean Winchester.

'So Markus you were gonna tell me where Sam is…' Dean said his voice low, controlled and void of any emotion.

S—D

Chaz reappeared in Sam's room and found the teen looking better and cleaner asleep in the bed with the female sitting on the floor next to the bed. 'No problems I take it?'

'He never woke, he has a slight fever but nothing too bad … he was badly damaged anally and required stitching that was the worst of his injuries Master.' She said keeping her gaze down in deference to her demonic master.

'You have done well Foxy.'

'Foxy … Master?'

'That is your name is it not?'

'Yes Master,' Foxy smiled softly but still kept her eyes downcast in respect and to make sure that she didn't anger him, not when she had finally gotten a name it made her position upside just a little more secure.

'You have room five, I expect you to work hard, to be obedient and to live up to your name.' Chaz said, 'you can get up now Foxy.'

'Thank you Master for everything I will make sure that you will never be disappointed in me.' Foxy said as she got to her feet and glanced over at Sam, 'if you need me to help with him at any time I am at your disposal.'

'Very good now go and get organised Foxy,' Chaz said and watched her leave with an appreciative glint in his eyes. She was a new arrival from below and had to wait for him to give her a name and position. Short and tiny waisted, she had true black hair with a bright red streak down the right side, and dark brown eyes quite pretty but not too beautiful her figure was in nice proportions. The female whose body she inhabits was one of Chaz's first human females and now he knew why he kept the body on ice.

After Foxy had gone Chaz conjured a chair and sat down intent on waking Sam up when he noticed that the kid's eyes were open. 'So I see that you've decided to join the land of the so-called living.'

'I thought that you were a nightmare,' Sam said his voice sounded dry and rough.

'Ah nice to see that you're back,' Chaz said with a grin as he produced a glass of water and helped Sam drink it. 'So Sam we have to talk.'

'Go away.'

'Now, now is that anyway to speak to your Master?' Chaz asked with a chilly tone and no inflection of humour.

'You are not my Master.'

'Keep a civil tongue Sam or do you want me to send you back to Markus?'

As soon as Sam heard Markus' name he started to shake and turned over onto his side away from any threats and demonic presences.

'Sam … Samuel look at me.' Chaz snapped.

'How I can't see?' Sam snapped back almost petulantly.

'Sam this is not … Your duties are simple and I will expect you to do them without complaint or wisecracks.'

'What duties?' Sam asked and slowly rolled onto his back again wincing with the pull on his stitches and various injuries.

'You my darling boy can heal with a touch … you're going to be my new entertainment.' Chaz said happily.

'I'm what?' Sam exclaimed in shock but there was no one there, Chaz had disappeared again.

'Where are you Dean?' Sam whispered as he fought against his rising tears, he clenched his fists so tightly his nails made bloodied crescent shapes on his palms. 'Please find me, please Dean.'

S—D

Dean paced his father's office like a caged tiger; controlled rage and rippling muscles a perfect predatory hunter.

'Calm down Dean,' Bobby said without looking up from his book, 'yer father'll be back as soon as they're finished with Markus.'

'Yeah but it should be me questioning him Bobby, I'll make him talk.'

'Yeah, ahh bang up job you did last time, if Rufus and Caleb hadn't pulled you off Markus we'd have nothing.'

'I was close to getting the information from him.' Dean said sullenly as he stood at the window and stared up at the hill where he trained with Sam, that felt so long ago, 'damn I'm so sick of this war.'

'Aint we all Dean,' Bobby said in agreement as he joined the younger man at the window with two glasses of whiskey, 'here get this down.'

'Thanks Bobby.' Dean said as he gratefully took the offered drink.

The shrill ringing of Bobby's cell phone caught both of them off guard; Bobby pulled it out of his pocket and stared at the number for a second before answering the call. 'Singer here, this better be important.'

Dean watched Bobby carefully, his gut tightened as he listened to Bobby's side of the conversation and then waited impatiently for the call to end. 'What is it Bobby?'

'Balls!' Bobby ground out as he poured another whiskey and downed it in one gulp, 'balls!'

'Bobby what is it?' Dean yelled to get Bobby's attention.

'We lost St Louis, New Orleans and on the verge of losing the entire state of Louisiana that was Daniel Elkins … Washington D.C. is another on the losing side.'

'Fuck … what are we gonna do Bobby?' Dean asked but silently he begged, _where are you Sammy?'_

S—D

Chaz smiled benevolently at his guests as he flounced towards his throne, they had just finished their latest war meeting and now he wanted to celebrate, 'I have a special treat for you all.'

As Chaz spoke two guards dragged Sam into the room and pushed him into the smaller seat trapping his wrists and ankles in the attached cuffs and then clipped a short chain from the silver ring on the pole to Sam's collar effectively preventing him from moving.

'This young human is unique and I am proud to be his owner, he is a touch empath and it is truly an amazing spectacle.' Chaz said as he sat down on his own seat thoroughly enjoying the attention, 'but first we need someone for him to heal bring in the human guinea pig.'

A spotlight came on and lit up the frame on the other side of the throne where two guards appeared with a bedraggled man between them. Swiftly they put his wrists and ankles in the manacles and removed the gag from his mouth.

'So what punishment should we give this pathetic creature?' Chaz called out laughing as some called out various forms of torture; _they are all such a bloodthirsty lot_, 'So it looks like some knife work is the general consensus.'

The applause grew louder and more boisterous as they ripped the last of his shirt away; then leather clad Foxy came out twirling silver blades and with two more in each of her boots. Moving to music only she could hear she gyrated across the platform before slashing the victim's stomach and chest dragging the razor sharp blades across the flesh leaving bloodied slashes in their wake. She turned and dipped swaying her hips before twisting back to drive them in a little deeper. As her act continued Foxy artfully sliced the prisoner the guests roared with delight as his screams became her music. Finally, after whipping up a frenzy of bloodlust and sadism she finished by plunging the first two blades into his abdomen and the two from her boots she drove into his sides.

Chaz laughed and clapped his hands in delight at the response to his entertainment and now he was ready to announce the main event. 'What a display thank you Foxy you were beautiful and inspired.' He complimented the female and then he stood and sashayed over to where Sam sat. He could feel the fear emanating from the teenager; he drank it in and felt the thrill course through him. 'Bring it over here,' he ordered the guards who undid the manacles and dragged the barely alive prisoner over to where Chaz stood next to Sam.

'No, no please no.' Sam begged he couldn't see the man clearly but he could smell the blood and gore, 'it'll kill me.'

'Well you had better make sure you don't die Sammy boy.' Chaz whispered in his ear, 'let's see what our boy wonder can do.' He undid the cuff around Sam's right wrist and gripped it tightly as he nodded for the prisoner to be dragged closer; yanking Sam's arm hard Chaz smiled even more when he heard the soft yelp of pain and shock come from the boy and then he pressed Sam's hand on the arm of the man.

'No!' Sam cried out but it was too late, the force from Chaz and the call of the injuries were too much and he felt the heat flare inside of him.

Silence descended over the room as the assembled guests and staff watched in amazement as Sam healed the prisoner. Chaz watched his guests with a calculating shine in his eyes as they glowed black; this was working out better than he could have imagined it.

Barely conscious Sam slumped back in the seat he fought to stay aware but it was a losing battle just as he finally gave in he heard a voice that chilled him through to his soul.

'Sam … I am so sorry.'

'P-Pastor J-Jim?' Sam stuttered as the darkness finally took hold and he collapsed against the back of the seat.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended. 

**Chapter 12:**

**Then:**

_Chaz laughed and clapped his hands in delight at the response to his entertainment and now he was ready to announce the main event. 'What a display thank you Foxy you were beautiful and inspired.' He complimented the female and then he stood and sashayed over to where Sam sat. He could feel the fear emanating from the teenager; he drank it in and felt the thrill course through him. 'Bring it over here,' he ordered the guards who undid the manacles and dragged the barely alive prisoner over to where Chaz stood next to Sam._

_'No, no please no.' Sam begged he couldn't see the man clearly but he could smell the blood and gore, 'it'll kill me.'_

_'Well you had better make sure you don't die Sammy boy.' Chaz whispered in his ear, 'let's see what our boy wonder can do.' He undid the cuff around Sam's right wrist and gripped it tightly as he nodded for the prisoner to be dragged closer; yanking Sam's arm hard Chaz smiled even more when he heard the soft yelp of pain and shock come from the boy and then he pressed Sam's hand on the arm of the man._

_'No!' Sam cried out but it was too late, the force from Chaz and the call of the injuries were too much and he felt the heat flare inside of him._

_Silence descended over the room as the assembled guests and staff watched in amazement as Sam healed the prisoner. Chaz watched his guests with a calculating shine in his eyes as they glowed black; this was working out better than he could have imagined it._

_Barely conscious Sam slumped back in the seat he fought to stay aware but it was a losing battle just as he finally gave in he heard a voice that chilled him through to his soul._

_'Sam … I am so sorry.'_

_'P-Pastor J-Jim?' Sam stuttered as the darkness finally took hold and he collapsed against the back of the seat._

**Now:**

Your swords, made rich  
with the most noble blood of all this world.

(Julius Caesar 3.1.155)

War changes those who fight and those who survive it. There is no real glory, only pain and regret mixed with bravery and heroism. Contradictions abound in the way it is perceived, lived and ended. Human against human was a centuries old form of warfare; they plotted and coveted what they thought they wanted from their fellow humanity no matter what the cost. But what of a demonic war? A war not fought for land, riches or politics but a war fought purely for the control of a world filled with mere mortals.

Mortals who had defended themselves against invading forces and their own neighbours but had no idea on how to defend themselves against the warfare waged by beings created within the pits of hell.

When the war first began a small band of hunters were all who stood between the invading hordes and the unsuspecting masses: those who still thought that monsters only existed in horror movies, fairy tales and nightmares. The only other form of monstrosity in the awareness of the population was that who had a human face and an evil mind.

The tide of the war was now turning but not in favour of the human race; it was turning in favour of the invaders.

The military was now governed by the same hunters who used to work in the shadows and in the grey realm between the supernatural worlds and the human world. Although, even with their expertise in hunting, lore, weaponry, and fighting hand to hand they were often on the losing side in the battles and skirmishes. No matter how many of the demonic forces were destroyed and sent back to the pits of hell; more came in their place.

John Winchester was the commander in charge of the Kansas Command Centre and was an imposing figure at anytime even when not in battle. Standing six feet two, with thick and slightly curly black hair showing the first strands of silver at his temples and a salt and pepper coloured beard his dark green eyes often gave the illusion of being pools of fathomless black. His muscular body moved with a lithe grace and the lethalness of a predatory animal and suited his gruff demeanour and very short temper; passionate about his "calling" in life to find the demon ultimately responsible for his family's involvement in hunting to start with and the war against humanity.

He stood staring intently at the map laid out in front of him, Lawrence was his hometown and suddenly the demonic omens and gorilla-like attacks were escalating and the reports coming in from there made his blood run cold. Another piece of intel he had sat like a rock heavy in his gut; it was personal and also held the balance of weight for his decision. If the intel was right then his youngest son Sam was being held by his captors in a remodelled warehouse in the industrial area of Lawrence right in the middle of everything. He hadn't told anyone especially his eldest son and Sam's beloved protector Dean about this new piece of information; John had the unenviable decision of possibly sacrificing his son, his baby, to save the survivors or to send in a rescue mission for Sam and possibly lose any opportunity to save the city and to lose once again to the demons.

'When were you going to tell me dad?' Twenty-year old Dean Winchester demanded as he burst into his father's office his emerald green eyes flaring with impotent rage. Not even an inch shorter than his father, Dean had a stockier muscular build than his father but he had the same lethalness as he moved. Handsome, cocky and fast becoming a lady's man when he had the chance he was a force of power in the making.

'What are you talking about Dean?' John asked distractedly as he marked more places on the map.

'The strike you're planning on Lawrence and the fact that Sam is being held there,' Dean said in such a low controlled tone he made his father look up and stare at his eldest. 'So you do actually hear me when you want to?'

'Do not disrespect me Dean; I am still your father and your commanding officer.' John yelled back, 'how did you get the intel to begin with?'

'Gee dad I'm not your son for nothing,' Dean said as he moved closer to his father his anger driving him past his normal deference to his father's decisions.

'That is enough!' John said as he lashed out and connected his fist with Dean's jaw before the realisation hit; he blinked furiously and stared down at his stunned son, 'Dean?'

'Don't dad, just don't,' Dean said as he spat out a globule of blood and spit.

'What the bleeding hell is going on down here?' Bobby demanded as he charged into the room, 'I can hear ya two idjits all the way down the hall.'

'Nothing Bobby, just a difference of opinion,' Dean said as he climbed to his feet and cradled his aching jaw in one hand while pouring himself a whiskey with the other; he refused to look at his father as he downed the spirits and turned to stare at Bobby, 'so what's up your panties?'

'Just got word from Lawrence, those freaking idjits down there decided to launch the attack on that new stronghold.'

'They did what?' John snarled, his upper lip curling as his temper took control, 'what the fucking hell do they … what did they do Bobby?'

'Just got word back from Ripley they got the charges set ahead of schedule while there was something going on deep in the building. They detonated them before waiting for their orders to come through. Their thinking was to try and kill as many of bastards as they could while they were inside the building. None of them had a brain between them.'

'What about Sam?' John asked 'did he get out?'

'Sam?' Dean spun around to stare at his father in horror, 'do you mean to say that … that was the building where Sam was being held?'

'Dean stop it … I did not give the order to detonate anything, I wanted more intel and to find out if it was viable to send a rescue team in first.'

'Viable?' Dean spat out, 'if it was viable to send a rescue team in first to save _your_ son … _Your youngest son_!'

S—D

Smoke, debris, heat and flames dominated the ruins of the lushly redeveloped warehouse and new headquarters of the mid-western sector under the leadership of Charzael, son of Azazel and who has a penchant for sexual deviation, BDSM, violence and drinking blood. He was a naturally born sadist and took enjoyment in lulling his victims into a false sense of security before utterly destroying them.

The bombing came without warning; Charzael or as he preferred Chaz had just finished the first part of his entertainment for the pleasure of himself and his guests. His captive touch empath, a dewy eyed blind sixteen year old Sam Winchester complete with killer dimples and a youthful good looks on the verge of handsomeness. His recent growth spurt was indicative of just how tall he could potentially become but for now he was in the awkward all limbs and now grace stage. After his pet human had broken Sam for him he had the boy strapped into a specially made chair, forced him to witness the brutality and violence wielded against one of Sam's extended family and then had Sam heal him. The feat enthralled Chaz and his guests even more when they realised just how close to death the young empath was.

Just as he was about to announce the next part of his planned entertainment the building shook with explosions sounding like the closest of closest claps of thunder. Before they could react to it, walls crumbled as the ceilings and floors above them collapsed. Screams and shouts quickly faded beneath the sounds of crashing bricks, metal and wood.

Newly healed Pastor James Murphy managed to cover Sam's inert form with his own body as the debris showered down on them. Ever so slowly awareness came back to the preacher turned hunter and soldier; painfully and very stiffly he levered himself off Sam. Although, through Sam's miraculous gift he was no longer suffering from the injuries he sustained at the hands of Foxy Jim could feel the new bruises, lumps and bumps forming down his back and the backs of his legs.

'Sam? Come on Sam please don't die on me.' Pastor Jim said as he checked the very still form of Sam Winchester. 'Hang tight Sam I'm gonna go and find help,' he added as he finally found a very erratic pulse and a very slow, shallow intake of breathes. After making sure that Sam was alright he lifted him out of the chair and laid him in a safer more secluded place between the stage and the remains of the wall. After taking a last glance down at the unconscious youth, Jim turned and carefully picked his way through the wreckage of the building searching for a way out.

S—D

Sam slowly came to awareness and quickly wanted to lose consciousness again when the nausea swirling in his stomach made itself known. Although he could only see shadows and red mists he was aware of the ground above him and the sky seemingly below him and the need to vomit tickled the back of his throat once again. He was being carried in a fireman's hold, with his upper body bumping against someone's back and his hands almost grazing the ground. Whoever was carrying him held his legs tightly against their chest pining him tightly; frustrated Sam closed his eyes and tried to focus.

'You fucking little shit,' echoed in Sam's ears when the vomit finally erupted from his throat and cascaded down the legs of his latest captor. Suddenly Sam found himself lying on the ground; cold, wet and shivering he flailed his hands around him a little until he got purchase in the mud and was able to crab-crawl away from whoever had taken him.

'Come back here you little shit.'

Sam tilted his head slightly as he tried to workout whose voice it was, so familiar and yet had a slightly different lilt to it. 'Markus?'

'Yep the one and only, only now new and improved and I have your brother to thank you for it.' Markus smirked as he wiped off the last of the congealing vomit.

'Dean? What do you mean? Where's Dean?' Sam yelled his fists forming in the mud and slime as his anger replaced his fear.

'Your precious brother turned up with his little posse not long after Charzael brought you to Lawrence…'

'I'm in Lawrence?' Sam said the news helped to centre him a little and gave him a fragment of hope.

'As I was saying before I got so rudely interrupted, Dean ended up doing me the greatest favour ever! I was dead well I thought I was but thanks to a little finger clicking and a bit of a deal or two I'm back baby! Bigger and better than ever before.'

'No, no what's dead should stay dead not come back like some noxious weed,' Sam said as he made himself focus on where Markus' voice was coming from.

'For now you're mine kiddo, and I gotta say that I'm looking forward to having you all to myself.'

'How, how did you survive the blast … but you weren't there were you?'

'Nope I was busy co-ordinating the attack on the building,' Markus said his smirk growing into a lecherous grin, 'ya see the idiots here don't know about my extracurricular activities per se so I got to thinking about planting some serious doubts about the need to wait and made it look like the order came from the almighty John Winchester himself.'

'No they wouldn't believe it,' Sam said shaking his head in disbelief, 'my dad wouldn't order an attack like that not without checking everything out first.'

'Yeah right, you keep right on believing that kid!' Markus said as he went to grab Sam by the arm again when he found himself suddenly flying backwards and crashing into the wall behind them.

Dazed Markus tried to get up when he felt another invisible punch push him further away from his intended victim. After he crashed into the side of a large metal bin his head connected with a rock lying next to it and he was unconscious before he even realised it.

Sam let go of the breath he wasn't even aware that he was holding and slowly inched his way up to standing. He waited for a few minutes until the dizziness passed and he didn't feel as though he was about to keel over any second.

Staggering Sam used the wall to guide him as he hoped he was moving away from Markus and not closer to him; he could feel his heart trying to burst out of his chest as he moved through the alleyway. Every sound echoed and made him jump until he got angry with himself and started to think of every "Deanism" he could conjure instantly calming himself as he moved closer to a populated area.

Stopping suddenly Sam gasped as the wall of pain hit him and nearly laid him out. The call to the source of the pain silenced everything else and although he fought against this new intrusive instinct he found himself stumbling closer to it. Shaking and trembling Sam tried to stop himself from reaching out when he felt the same pull come from behind him and before he knew what was happening he found himself surrounded by people in pain, not only physical but also emotional.

S—D

Dean stood in what remained of the warehouse, amongst the ruins were bodies and body parts strewn about as though a strong wind had picked them up and then dumped them haphazardly among the rubble and wreckage. Distraught he turned in small circles his gaze raking over everything in a dying hope of finding a certain teenager. 'Sam,' he yelled frantically, 'come on Sam where are ya?' he muttered softly before yelling even louder, 'Sam … Sammy!'

'Dean over here,' Rufus called out the urgency in his voice making Dean run towards him with a sense of dread coiling in his gut.

'What is it Rufus?' Dean called and then skidded to a stop when he saw the man standing with Rufus. 'Pastor Jim? What? How? Where's Sam?'

'Dean son I am so sorry,' Jim said as he started to sway and his knees gave way, 'I tried … I tried …' his eyes rolled up into the backs of his eyes and collapsed into Dean's arms.

Gently Dean lowered the preacher to the floor before looking up at Rufus, 'what the hell Rufus? I mean what the hell?'

'Dunno what's going on kid but I had no idea that the preacher man was even here,' Rufus said, 'no sign of ya brother though.'

'I know damn it all to hell Rufus but I aint leaving till I find him.' Dean said as he stood up with his shoulders back and head held high, 'take Pastor Jim back to the sanctuary I'm gonna keep looking for Sam.'

'You shouldn't be out there on yer own Dean, they know who you are.'

'Do I look like I care Rufus … Sam is out there somewhere and I aint leaving until I find him.' Dean looked down at Jim and then back to Rufus, 'take care of him please.'

'Yeah sure kid, you sure you won't change yer mind?' Rufus asked although he already knew the answer, 'I'm gonna send Caleb to help ya as soon as I get the preacher back there, and then once he's squared I'll be back too.'

'Actually Rufus there's something you could do for me first.' Dean said cryptically with a small grin and a malicious glint to his green eyes.

After Rufus had left with Pastor Jim and the cleanup crew were well underway with their jobs Dean left the wreckage of the building and stood in the middle of the street in the harsh daylight, _where are ya Sam? _He turned in small slow circles letting his gaze roam over the once proud cityscape and let his worry and anger build and merge into a fire burning deep in his belly. 'Sam! Sammy!'

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Author's Note: **I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to update my stories, unfortunately I didn't have a great start to the year with family tragedy and personal problems that have overwhelmed me. On the upside I think I am gonna have the time and emotional capacity to start writing again, so bear with me just a wee bit longer and I'll be totally back on track.

I know that this chapter is a little shorter than normal but I wanted to put something out there, it is unbetaed so if there are mistakes they are mine, I take complete responsiblity for them.

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**Chapter 13**

**Then:**

_'You shouldn't be out there on yer own Dean, they know who you are.'_

_'Do I look like I care Rufus … Sam is out there somewhere and I aint leaving until I find him.' Dean looked down at Jim and then back to Rufus, 'take care of him please.'_

_'Yeah sure kid, you sure you won't change yer mind?' Rufus asked although he already knew the answer, 'I'm gonna send Caleb to help ya as soon as I get the preacher back there, and then once he's squared I'll be back too.'_

_'Actually Rufus there's something you could do for me first.' Dean said cryptically with a small grin and a malicious glint to his green eyes._

_After Rufus had left with Pastor Jim and the cleanup crew were well underway with their jobs Dean left the wreckage of the building and stood in the middle of the street in the harsh daylight, where are ya Sam? He turned in small slow circles letting his gaze roam over the once proud cityscape and let his worry and anger build and merge into a fire burning deep in his belly. 'Sam! Sammy!'_

**Now:**

O conspiracy!  
Sham'st thou to show thy dangerous brow by night,  
When evils are most free?

(Julius Caesar 2.1.77)

Sam's eyes snapped open and he lay for a moment trying to tame his breath and to work out where he was exactly. The wave of pain and despair had washed over him like a tidal wave and left just as quickly leaving him feeling spent and desperately alone.

The sun warm on his chilled cheeks gave him some semblance of sanity; at least it was daytime and he was alive and breathing. Gradually with each ragged breath Sam did an internal exam, he felt sore almost tender in some spots but otherwise he was alright, his left knee grated when he tried to move it and for some strange reason he had a numbness in his left hand he hadn't noticed before.

An overwhelming sense of despondency washed over him as he slowly started to move, his fingers ghosting over the slippery ground and patches of think oozing mud. The rank stench of rotting rubbish and human waste assaulted his senses and Sam had to swallow deeply to stem the rising tide of nausea.

'Dean?' He whispered hoarsely his throat burning with thirst and disuse, 'help me please Dean?'

As he slowly pushed himself up against a wall, Sam felt tears scalding his chilled features as they made their way unbidden towards his chin. A shuffling sound to one side made him bite his lip enough to draw blood as he pressed himself harder against the wall, desperately trying to pull his long legs in tight, his left knee audibly let him know just how stiff and sore it was, the grating of bone on bone sound echoed loudly to his sensitive hearing.

Bracing his good hand on the ground by his hip Sam steeled himself trying to prepare for another wave of pain and hopelessness. However, this time there was no pain, instead flashes of another time, another era penetrated to fog in his mind. He could hear and see the soldiers advancing, dressed in the combat uniform of World War 2, the slang and orders given in a style almost forgotten in recent times.

The foul odour of rotted flesh and other unimaginable smells heralded the imminent arrival of the intruders and Sam soon realised who or rather what they were. The flashes of war, smell of gunpowder and blood made the horrific vision even more real for the teenager as he wept and tried to slide further along the wall. Blind and terrified Sam had no way of finding out how many ghouls there were.

S—D

The scent of fresh meat and hot blood brought the hunger lust out of the demonic creatures as they lurched along the abandoned streets in search of fresh pickings after the bombing. Freed from the pits of hell and time the one-time soldiers, corrupted and twisted from a lifetime ago where they had found out just how wrong and evil war was, and how they were able to profit for their own benefits.

Returned to roam the world above once more they still wore the uniform they had disgraced but that was as far as their allegiance went. Corrupted from war, twisted in the pits of hell they now hungered for blood and human flesh. They no longer had lucid thoughts or operated on logic; now they acted on primitive instincts, violent and lustful.

They had stopped at the entrance to the alley searching the immediate area for easy pickings when they scented something else. Something pure, innocent and tantalisingly hanging on to life; with a whoop of anticipation one started down the alleyway into the shadows with the others close behind, at least six of them, all salivating at the thought of pulsing blood and warm meat.

S—D

Caleb pulled up close to the curb and kept the car running while he scanned the area searching for a sandy blond young man frantically searching for his brother. With his gut twisting in a sudden and oppressive feeling of dread Caleb put the car into gear and pulled out slowly something was very wrong.

The streets were deserted even though there were signs of recent life and movement, puddles of blood shone darkly in the sunlight and the smell of death tainted the air. Breathing through his nose Caleb felt his stomach lurch painfully as he realised what was going on, 'dammit Dean where are ya kid?' he muttered as he continued his search, the sense of urgency stronger now than ever before.

A shadowed figure burst out from between buildings causing Caleb to swerve and almost smash his car into an abandoned one, cursing he came to a skidding stop, wrenched the keys form the ignition and took off after the fast moving figure. 'Dean!' he yelled as loudly as he dared sprinting after the young hunter, 'For fuck's sake Dean wait for me.'

S—D

Dean moved on instinct but something else, something ingrained deeply inside of him and his psyche. He could feel the pull as keenly as he felt the coldness of the wind and the warmth of the sunlight.

'Hang on Sammy I'm coming,' became his mantra as he sprinted and skidded through the skeletal remains of the city of Lawrence. A familiar voice behind him made Dean slide to a stop and to spin around ready to fight with his gun cocked and ready.

'Fuck Caleb do ya want me to kill ya?' Dean yelled angrily when he realised just who was chasing him and calling out.

'Yeah well if you'd answer I wouldn't haveta chase ya down,' Caleb panted softly as he finally caught up with the errant young hunter, 'I promised yer daddy I'd bring ya back in one piece.'

'Not going back Cal,' Dean said in a quiet but deadly tone, 'aint anyone's gonna make me until I find Sammy.'

'I know that ya idiot, I'm here to help ya.' Caleb said tenderly.

'He's not far away Cal I dunno how but…'

'I stopped questioning things where you two were concerned a long time ago.' Caleb grinned as he slapped Dean's shoulder and started to move out, 'well come on then we aint got all day to stand around gossiping like two old women.'

'Look who's talking,' Dean quipped ducking before Caleb could swipe him again and headed off in the direction he was heading in, the pull becoming stronger as he got closer to the next alley. One of the last still clear of debris from fallen buildings; frowning Dean put a finger to his lips and signed for Caleb to move to the other side of the entrance when he heard the distinctive guttural grunts of the marauding ghouls.

'Shit, how many do ya think … Dean they've got someone down there …'

'I know … it's Sam.' Dean said as he sprinted into the alleyway firing his pistol with rapid fire precision.

Without missing a beat Caleb followed suit as they made their way through the creatures towards their hapless victim; Sam Winchester, missing younger brother, psychic empath and hunter.

S—D

Sam recoiled from the evilness emanating from the creature as he scrambled to his feet and tried to escape from them, he heard a surprised 'humph' from the one who had tried to grab his arm, his fear causing another invisible attack come from deep within. All he had to do was to hang on until Dean got there, and Dean was going to get there it was something that Sam knew deep, deep down.

'Drop Sammy!' the words clear and sharp penetrated Sam's fear and pain filled mind as he instinctively heeded the order and dropped down into the filth and general safety of the ground.

The confined area echoed with gunfire and unholy screams; the air became filled with smoke and noxious smells making it harder to breathe.

Although it was all over within minutes Dean felt as though it was hours before he could drop to his knees next to Sam's prone form. 'Sammy?'

'De-Dean?' Sam stuttered as he slowly lifted his head and tilted it towards the direction of Dean's voice.

'Ah Sammy look at ya.' Dean sighed as he cupped Sam's cheek tenderly; finally they were able to reconnect through a physical touch the first time in a long time.

'Hey Sam,' Caleb said as he gently touched the teen's shoulder, 'good to see ya still kicking.'

'H-Hi Cal.' Sam said shyly, he tried to hide his instinctive reaction to the older man's touch but had a feeling that he was unsuccessful when Caleb pulled away too quickly, 's-sorry Cal.'

'Hey Sam nothing to be sorry for,' Caleb said as he exchanged worried glances with Dean, 'just glad to see ya alive that's all, but before we get all lovey-dovey we have some ghouls to burn.'

'I'll b-be fine De-Dean.' Sam assured his brother, 'n-not g-going anywhere.'

Working as quickly as they could Dean and Caleb piled the ghouls at the dead-end of the alley, with a flick of his wrist Cal set the pile on fire before joining the Winchester brothers, worriedly he watched Sam try to hide his pain as he let Dean help him up.

'You doin' okay there Sam?' he finally asked as all colour disappeared from the teen's face.

'J-just a l-little diz-dizzy,' Sam managed to get out as he swayed and collapsed into Dean's arms.

'I'm gonna go and get the car, meet ya at the entrance,' Caleb said as he started to run back to his car, 'he's gonna be okay Dean.'

'Yeah I know,' Dean replied as he stared down at his unconscious brother safe again in his arms, 'you're gonna be Sammy, promise you're gonna be okay.'

'Well, well aint this sweet!' A cold and malevolent sounding voice startled Dean making him spin around in fright.

'What the fuck?' Dean gasped when he saw the new arrival, 'you're dead!'

S—D

Caleb pulled the car to a stop across the laneway and frowned when there was no sign of the Winchesters, they had more than enough time to make their meeting. Grumbling under his breath he parked and got out of the car, keys in one hand and cocked gun in the other. Minutes later he found Dean and Sam being held at gunpoint by none other than the recently resurrected Markus.

Moving stealthily through the rubble he took a deep breath and raised his gun, in the split second before taking the shot he made eye contact with Dean and then after the briefest of nods in agreement Caleb fired his weapon.

The bullet pierced Markus' side just under his ribs and then exploded through the other side in a minute and bloody explosion. Markus' knees started to buckle before he had even realised he was mortally wounded … again.

Lifting Sam higher in his embrace, Dean didn't spare a glance at the once again dead Markus as he moved past the body and carried his precious load towards Caleb, 'come on Cal let's get Sammy home.'

'Want me to add him to the pyre?' Cal asked as he nodded towards the body.

'Yeah let him burn,' Dean said heatedly as he continued walking, 'we'll meet ya at the car.'

Caleb returned to his vehicle in time to witness a tender moment between Dean and his little brother Sam. He watched from a distance but still felt like a voyeur as Dean settled them into the backseat. With Sam's head on his lap, Dean gently brushed stray hairs back and finally took a good close look at just how bad Sam was. 'What did that bastard do to you Sammy?'

S—D

Two days later, two very tired hunters and one still unconscious arrived back at the command centre. The resistance commander for the area stood in the doorway watching the dark car swerve and skid dangerously as it sped towards the compound. The order given to allow them access allowed him to stay where he was and to wait for them, this time as a distraught father and not as a commanding officer.

Behind him stood Rufus and Bobby, all three seasoned and hardened hunters waited nervously as they watched Caleb get out of the car and open the rear passenger door for Dean.

Seconds later Dean emerged from the vehicle, swaying from weariness and worry and carrying a very precious bundle in his arms. Moving ever so slowly Dean paused briefly to look up at his father, 'he's alive dad.' He managed to whisper before his own knees buckled and his eyes rolled upwards. John managed to take Sam into his own arms, as Bobby caught Dean and with Rufus' help carried him inside.

John followed close behind his gaze fixed firmly on his teenaged son's face, he looked so fragile and small as he cradled Sam to his chest, 'ahh Sammy, what did they do to you?' he whispered. How little Sam weighed now was testament to what he had been forced to go through, the guilt John felt weighed on him more than what Sam did.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**Chapter 14: **

**Then:**

_Two days later, two very tired hunters and one still unconscious arrived back at the command centre. The resistance commander for the area stood in the doorway watching the dark car swerve and skid dangerously as it sped towards the compound. The order given to allow them access allowed him to stay where he was and to wait for them, this time as a distraught father and not as a commanding officer._

_Behind him stood Rufus and Bobby, all three seasoned and hardened hunters waited nervously as they watched Caleb get out of the car and open the rear passenger door for Dean. _

_Seconds later Dean emerged from the vehicle, swaying from weariness and worry and carrying a very precious bundle in his arms. Moving ever so slowly Dean paused briefly to look up at his father, 'he's alive dad.' He managed to whisper before his own knees buckled and his eyes rolled upwards. John managed to take Sam into his own arms, as Bobby caught Dean and with Rufus' help carried him inside._

_John followed close behind his gaze fixed firmly on his teenaged son's face, he looked so fragile and small as he cradled Sam to his chest, 'ahh Sammy, what did they do to you?' he whispered. How little Sam weighed now was testament to what he had been forced to go through, the guilt John felt weighed on him more than what Sam did._

**Now:**

I had rather have  
such men my friends than enemies.

(Julius Caesar 5.4.28)

S—D

Dean sat by his brother's bedside watching impatiently for any sign of Sam's waking from his apparent catatonia. However, it seems that Sam has other ideas and remained blissfully unaware and unconscious for the last three days.  
'You have to get some sleep as well Dean,' John said as he stood in the doorway and looked down at his two sons.

'Yeah I will dad,' Dean replied without turning around, 'just as soon as Sam wakes up.'

'And what good will you be for him if you're too sick to be around him?' John asked carefully knowing full well that he was treading on the proverbial thin ice with his question.

'Just what do you mean by that?' Dean snarled turning angry eyes towards his father, 'you're not keeping us apart.'

'No but you will be, remember Dean … Sam will wake up with the need to heal you, he'll know if you're not up to par and he'll try and heal you.'

'Dammit dad,' Dean said as he seemingly deflated in front of his father, 'I can't leave him not until I know he's alright.'

'I know son, but you can lie down in your own bed just there and sleep, I'll keep an eye on him for a while.'

'Yeah but you have the command…'

'Bobby's holding the fort and he has the others, I'm taking time for my boys for a while,' John said with a gentle smile, 'sides I can finally catch up with some news,' he added as he produced a rumpled newspaper and the mug of steaming coffee from behind his back.

'Is that what I think it is?' Dean asked licking his lips with the sweet smell of coffee invading his deprived senses.

'Yep and there's a whole pot of it upstairs in the kitchen along with a couple of sandwiches, some clean clothes are in the bathroom for you and oh yeah I think that there's a nice piece of peach pie.'

'You'll call me if Sam wakes up?' Dean asked as he glanced back at his brother and then up at his father's grinning face, 'promise me?'

'Promise now git outta here and let me have five minutes of peace okay?' John said showing an uncharacteristic gentler side he kept in reserve for his two boys.

'Thanks dad,' Dean grinned as he hurried out, his mind filling with thoughts of getting back to Sam as soon as possible but also with thoughts of hot coffee, food, clean clothes, a shower and of course pie.

S—D

'Dad?' Sam whispered as he tried to fight his way back to consciousness, at first he had thought it was Dean sitting there but he recognised the masculine scent he had associated with his dad ever since he could remember; a mix of whiskey, cologne and something that was quintessentially John Winchester. 'Dad?' Sam called out again this time a little stronger, his body felt so strange as though it wasn't his and didn't want to respond to his thoughts.

'Sammy?' John's dulcet tones connected with Sam's innermost thoughts and emotions and helped bring him closer to full wakefulness. 'Come on son wake up for me.' John said as he watched Sam try to bring himself out of unconsciousness, part of him wanted to call Dean immediately but the other part, the slightly more selfish part wanted to keep this moment for himself.

'Dad … where? How? Where's Dean?' Sam whispered his voice sounding so strained and dry; weakly he ran the tip of his tongue along his dry lips in a vain attempt to moisten them.

'Easy Sam I've got some water for ya,' John said as he picked up the glass of water by the bed, and then gently cupped his hand around the back of Sam's neck, 'easy son just nice and slow sips don't need ya throwing it back up.'

Sam gratefully sipped the cool fluid and blinked blindly towards his dad's voice, 'thanks,' he croaked as he pushed the glass away from his mouth, 'dad where's Dean?'

'He's showering and having something to eat,' John said sitting back he took in his youngest boy's appearance especially his unfocussed and glassy eyes. Aside from his blindness, and the myriad amount of injuries Sam had sustained there was the emotional toll and his so-called empathic gifts.

Sam frowned and tried to "listen" terrified that his father had left him alone, the room was so quiet it was becoming unnerving, although as he made himself calm down Sam started to hear the steady thump of a heartbeat outside of his own body. Tentatively he reached out with a shaking hand until he touched a limb, with warm skin and firm muscle beneath. 'Dad?'

'Huh? Oh sorry Sammy I must have been lost there for a moment,' John said as he tried to gather his thoughts, 'how you feeling son? Honestly mind you.'

'Um okay I guess, I mean I hurt like ache but not sharp pain, my left knee is stiff and kinda sore and my left hand is still numb … I feel like I was run over by a ten tonne truck.'

'Do you want me to go and get the Doc for ya?' John asked his voice tinged with the deep seated worry he tried so hard to ignore.

'No! I mean no I'm okay for now dad, just s-stay with m-me pl-please?' Sam said stammering slightly as he eased himself back onto the pillows, 'dad where's Dean?'

Frowning at his son's apparent lapse in his short term memory, John reminded Sam that Dean was showering and getting something to eat before talking Sam into having a nap until his brother came back.

'Dad?' Sam's plaintive voice startled John breaking him out of his own sleepiness, 'dad you still there?'

Wincing at the neediness in Sam's voice, John cleared his throat and placed a warm hand on his son's leg, 'm'right here kiddo.'

'Dad I kinda f-f-feel weird…' Sam admitted scrunching his face as a wave of pain seemed to pass through him, 'not … my – my p-pain.'

'Sammy? Hang in there kiddo,' John said knocking his chair over in his rush to stand up, 'Dean get your butt down here now!' he bellowed as he crouched next to Sam's bed and ghosted a hand over Sam's face not sure on what to do, 'just hang in there for me Sammy.'

'Wha' wrong?' Dean gasped through a mouthful of pie crust as he rushed into the room, coughing down the last crumbs he swiped the back of his hand across his lips and then joined his father at Sam's beside, 'what is it Sammy?'

'I gotta go find the Doc,' John said almost absently, 'stay with your brother Dean,'

'Aww dad you know you don't have to say that,' Dean snapped, 'think I know that by now.'

'Not now Dean, your brother's in pain and it aint his.' John said without thinking, 'just stay with Sam.'

'Yes Sir!' Dean sat down next to Sam's side and ignored his father as he started to take stock of his brother's condition. _If dad wants to be a dick then…_

S—D

Sam internally sensed his brother's presence and instantly relaxed slightly, the pain still rampaged through him but it seemed to be a little less terrifying with Dean there, 'D-Dean?'

'Hey bro, so you still doin' ya channelling shtick are ya?'

'Ye-yeah I g-guess I – I am,' Sam said shivering as another wave of pain crashed through him this time taking his breath from him, 'why-why m-me De-Dean?'

'Dunno kiddo but we're gonna get ya through this,' Dean said as he wiped Sam's face with a damp cloth, 'I'm right here with ya Sammy aint going nowhere.'

'Th-thanks … argh hurts so-so much!'

'Doc'll be here soon Sammy just hang on for me,' Dean said not caring if he sounded like he was pleading.

'De-Dean … sh-shot … b-been sh-shot in stomach, sc-scared … alone … cl-close by … help th-them,' Sam wept clutching at Dean's shirt front. 'Callum … De-Dean th-think it's Call-Callum' Sam gasped out as he tried to ride out the pain in his abdomen.

'Dean what's going on?' Rick asked as he ran into the room with John close behind him, 'is it Sam?'

'No, no he's feeling … he thinks that it's Callum … been shot in the stomach area.'

'Sam himself?'

'He says okay, aching and stiff but not too bad until this but then again…'

'Yeah with Sam who knows.' Rick said with a grin, he hadn't known the brothers all that long but he had already worked out their "martyr" complexes and tendencies to underplay their own pain and issues in order to put someone's needs ahead of theirs.

'Sammy … Sam hey the Doc is here, Rick's here,' Dean said as he tried to get Sam's attention.

'Kay,' Sam finally pushed the word out as the phantom pains threatened to take him over the edge.

S—D

Armed and surrounded by Rufus and Caleb, Bobby ran towards the rear sector of the property where the sounds of gunfire had been reportedly heard. Callum and his ragtag group had been patrolling the area and as they neared the fence line and first rows of barricades Bobby's heart thudded painfully when he saw the body of young Luka draped over one of the barricades, a gaping hole in his back the telltale sign of his violent and senseless death. The blast had killed him instantly, cowardly shot from behind as the youngster had tried to get away. With a sinking feeling the three seasoned hunters and fighters slowed their gait but continued with a grim determination to find the rest of the child brigade and their leader Callum.

Seconds later the sound of gunfire has stopped and the sound of wailing and pain replaced it, 'dammit idjits where are ya?' Bobby mumbled as they searched the tree line, 'ahhh shit over there Rufus.'

Rufus stopped and focussed on the spot Bobby was pointing to, two slight bodies lay side by side in a pool of glistening blood, so concentrate and deep it gave the appearance of a black mirror rather than a pool of body fluids.

'Callum and Max by the look …' Rufus dropped to his knees next to the fallen teenagers and placed a shaking finger on Callum's carotid artery and then he checked Max's pulse, 'they're alive, dunno how but they're still alive Bobby!'

S—D

Sam screamed, his back arching as he fought to maintain control of the burning pain sensations assaulting his stomach, Rick watched over his patient as he prepared a mild sedative injection for him, worried that this latest empathic episode would shoot his blood pressure to worrying heights again Rick chose to err to sedation for Sam rather than let the already traumatised teenager to suffer through someone else's pain any longer.

'What's that for Doc?' Dean asked Rick as he put a restraining hand on the doctor's arm.

'Just a mild sedative to take the edge off for Sam, I don't want his blood pressure to balloon out of control again, this'll just ease things for him.'

'Won't knock him out?'

'Nope it's not strong enough to do that.' Rick assured Dean as he continued to give Sam the small injection.

'Rick I need you back in the clinic now,' Debbie puffed out as she rushed into the small bedroom, 'we got incoming.'

'What is it?' Rick asked as he finished giving Sam a cursory exam after the sedative had time to take effect, 'who is it?'

'Bobby radioed in, Callum and Max have both been shot … Luka's dead.' Debbie said softly as she glanced down at Sam, 'it's bad.'

'What kind of gunshot wound Debbie?' Dean asked, grasping Sam's limp hand tightly in his own.

'Stomach … both of em.' Debbie replied before she left with Rick leaving the Winchester men alone in the bedroom.

Sam was lying so still on the bed Dean was tempted to check his breathing and pulse points to make sure that he was still alive when he saw a lone tear escape from the tightly clenched shut eyes of his younger brother. _Ahh Sammy…_

'De-Dean … D-Dad?'

'Yeah Sammy?' both John and Dean answered in unison.

'C-can you t-take me t-to them?' Sam opened his sightless eyes and rolled his head towards the direction of their voices, 'pl-please?' Even blind Sam still managed to give them a full version of his puppy dog eyes.

'No Sam it'll kill you,' John said as he traded glances with Dean, 'you're to stay put son, and that's an order!'

'B-But d-dad…D-Dean?'

'No I'm with dad on this one Sammy … Rick'll be able to save them so don't worry bout them.' Dean said as firmly as he could.

S—D

Dejected and with lingering phantom pains still burning in his stomach Sam rolled over onto his side with his back to his family. He knew that they were right but that didn't make things any better for him. The call to heal was eating at him from inside out, gnawing away at him, both physically and emotionally.

'Sam please don't …'

'No leave him Dean, if he wants to sulk then let him,' John said a little harsher than he intended but it had the desired effect and he saw the fire start to kindle in Dean's eyes again.

'Let me go to them please?' Sam whispered tearfully, 'make it stop please … let me go to them.'

'Sammy it'll kill ya, I can't do that. Call me selfish but there is no way I'm losing you now.' Dean said as he levelled his gaze at his father, 'and dad why don't you go and do what you do best … Commander Winchester!'

'Watch that tone with me Dean you're not too old…'

'To what dad? Be put across your knee?' Dean sneered and let his anger snake into his tone of voice.

'Don't tempt me Dean!' John spat back.

'Stop it both of you!' Sam yelled as loudly as he could and turned himself to face his family, 'quit fighting …' though his words were quickly drowned out by the sounds of giggling and outright laughter. 'What the … what's funny?'

'We got ya kiddo!' Dean said between laughs, 'ahhh it worked.'

'That … that was … just mean!' Sam said mortified at how they had easily had him strung along, 'take advantage of the blind guy why don't ya?'

'Hey Sam … listen to yourself.' Dean sobered enough to take Sam's chin in his fingers anchoring his face close to his, 'you're not stuttering, you sound better and you're not writhing in pain.'

'Dean … Dad!' Sam whined stubbornly refusing to accept the fact that they had helped him without doing anything else except treating him like normal. Especially for Dean, pranking his younger brother was one of the small delights he could still relish.

S—D

_A month later:_

Dean sighed heavily and dropped himself into the empty chair in front of his father's desk, his frown deepening when he wasn't able to elicit any response from his father, taking a deep breath he sighed again and then twitched an eyebrow at his parent.

'What's wrong Dean?' John asked finally tiring of his son's attention seeking antics.

'I'm bored,' Dean sighed again and fidgeted in his seat before starting to move the papers on John's desk around.

'Where's your brother?'

'Working with Pastor Jim and that psychic again to help him meditate and to control his empathy.' Dean mumbled, 'or something like that…'

'So?'

'So I'm bored, they work at it _all _of the time!

'You can go and do some laps?' John suggested as he took the papers from Dean and reorganised them again. 'Or go and do some training with the kids.'

'Been there done that,' Dean said as he started to flick the spare pencils across the desk.

'What about Caleb? What's he doing?'

'Recon in Colorado, remember _you _sent him!'

'Dean!'

'Well send me somewhere then…'

'And have an APB put out on you by your brother?' John chuckled and glanced down at his watch, 'they should be finished with their training so why don't you go and see if Sam's feeling up to doing some exercise with ya?'

'I guess we could go for a walk, and there are some new nurses at the clinic with Rick and Debbie…' Dean's voice trailed away as he started to imagine hot nurses in skimpy uniforms and warm stethoscopes.

'Or you could go and raid the kitchens?'

'Huh sorry Dad, might go and see if Sammy's feeling up to a walk,' Dean stood up and ran his fingers through his short spiked hair, 'you should clean your desk once in a while dad … it's a mess!'

S—D

Dawn cracked slowly over the compound, red and orange strands snaked across the horizon bathing everything in a soft golden hue; one could almost be forgiven in thinking that there was no war.

The whistling sound of a missile broke the early morning calm, it landed in the centre of the compound exploding into millions of shards delivering death to those closest to the impact zone. Screams and shrieks of shock and horror filled the atmosphere drowning out the call of the last few ravens.

John felt the tremors in his office and felt his stomach drop, the time had finally come and he had no way of contacting his sons, he just prayed that they were somewhere safe as he armed himself with the last of his ammunition, knives, a machete in its long sheath fixed to his back by a leather harness, two guns and his salt round shot guns.

'You ready Winchester?'

John turned to look at his old friend and fellow hunter, 'yeah are you Singer?'

'Always…'

'So this is…'

'We gonna go out with a bang or what?'

'That's the plan…'

'Where are the boys?'

'Safe I hope, Rufus?'

'He's waiting downstairs with the platoon, Caleb's gone to the clinic to evacuate them…'

'Always wanted to go out with the big guns blazing…'

'We're too fucking old for this…'

The two men laughed and clapped each other on the shoulder before heading out to fight the last and biggest battle of the war.

S—D

Dean kicked the flat tyre of the van and cursed for the tenth time, something was up he was sure of it and he had a feeling that Sam knew more than he was letting on. They were on the way back to the compound after taking Pastor Jim back to Blue Earth and the battle scarred few remaining there.

Sam had a slight control on his empathic powers, to the point where he could go amongst people as long as he wore gloves and long sleeved clothing to prevent skin contact and was able to find a place in his mind to go to when the call became too loud and he had to answer the pain and anguish.

He had a handle on his blindness as well now, or rather hid his insecurities a little more from his brother. In other words Dean knew when Sam was hiding things but he kept quiet and gave Sam the space and respect he needed to re-establish his independence and confidence.

Dean glanced over at his brother and had to have a small gloat and feel the swell of pride for the teenager, he had overcome so much in such a short amount of time and was still conquering more than anyone else they knew could handle. Frowning Dean stared a little harder at his brother and then started to run when he recognised the telltale signs of a vision.

'Dammit Sammy not now.' Dean said as he ran to his brother's side just in time to catch him, 'when did you get so tall kiddo?' He mused as he lowered his sibling to the ground, 'damn you're a sasquatch and a half now.'

S—D

'Dad! Bobby!' Sam screamed their names as he sat up and stared blindly around his hands groping for the only anchor he had in his dark reality; Dean.

'Hey, hey Sammy it's okay … you're okay I gotcha.' Dean said his patented reply as he caught Sam's hands and held them tightly until Sam had control of his breathing once again. The pattern so familiar now Dean felt as though it had been set in stone a millennium before they were born.

'The command … an attack Dean an all out attack … Dad and Bobby they were … they were … we've gotta go now!'

'Whoa slow down a little Sammy, take a breath and tell me exactly what you saw.'

'A-A dirty missile or bomb whatever landed in the compound, it was loaded with Croat-infected chunks of meat and bags of blood. It went everywhere and then the demons broke through … so many bodies Dean but – but I think that Bobby and dad were taken…'

'They're still alive?' Dean nodded and swallowed deeply that was something, 'anything else? What about Caleb and Rufus?'

'No, nothing on them don't think they were there.' Sam said as he paled and moved to the side just enough to vomit without splashing his brother.

Dean pulled out his cell phone and prayed for a connection while he rubbed Sam's back and kept a watchful eye on him, 'come on, come on,' he muttered as he hit the speed-dial for Caleb, 'answer me you fuck… Caleb is that you?'

'Yeah what's …'

'Shut up and listen Cal, Sammy had a vision … can you get back to command ASAP?'

'What's wrong Dean?'

'Sam had a vision that the attack happened on command, dad and Bobby were taken…'

'We're on our way now should be there by tomorrow morning.'

'Sam and me'll be there by tomorrow night at the latest okay … oh and Caleb?'

'Yeah dude?'

'Stay safe.'

'You too dude, you and little dude.'

TBC 


	15. Chapter 15

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Coz this chapter turned out so long I decided to break it into two, so this is part one and then part 2 is not a new chapter just the rest of this one. Thought it is a nice addition to say sorry for taking so long to get updated. Life is slowly getting back under control and once it does I'll be able to post again on a much more regular basis. Just hang in there a wee bit longer... thanks so much.

Just wanted to say a heartfelt thank you for all of the reviews, alerts and favourites you will never know just how much I appreciate them. I read every review and please accept my apologies for not answering them, each and every review means the world to me...

So nuff of the chick flick stuff let's get on with the chapter...

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

Chapter 15 part one

**Then:**

_Dean pulled out his cell phone and prayed for a connection while he rubbed Sam's back and kept a watchful eye on him, 'come on, come on,' he muttered as he hit the speed-dial for Caleb, 'answer me you fuck… Caleb is that you?'_

_'Yeah what's …'_

_'Shut up and listen Cal, Sammy had a vision … can you get back to command ASAP?'_

_'What's wrong Dean?'_

_'Sam had a vision that the attack happened on command, dad and Bobby were taken…'_

_'We're on our way now should be there by tomorrow morning.'_

_'Sam and me'll be there by tomorrow night at the latest okay … oh and Caleb?'_

_'Yeah dude?'_

_'Stay safe.'_

_'You too dude, you and little dude.'_

**Now:**

Between the acting of a dreadful thing  
And the first motion, all the interim is  
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:  
The genius and the mortal instruments  
Are then in council; and the state of man,  
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then  
The nature of an insurrection.

(Julius Caesar 2.1.63)

Caleb and Rufus watched the van drive closer to the remains of their command compound, the last vestiges of their hope and their freedom gone in one blast. They shared a guarded look before focussing back on the road; they dreaded telling the brothers of what they had found or rather what they didn't find.

'Whatcha gonna say Cal?' Rufus asked as he scratched at the healing scar on his chest.

'Dunno and leave that alone,' Caleb said and swatted at Rufus' hand.

'Quit it dad!' Rufus grumbled, 'member who's the elder here!'

'Yeah grandpa leave that alone you'll wreck my neat little stitches,' Caleb said as he shifted nervously and tugged at his ever present baseball cap, 'guess we had better get this show on the road.'

S—D

Dean wrenched the steering wheel and skidded around another bend as he managed to straighten the heavy van before sending a sheepish glance towards his brother, thankful for once at his blindness.

'Geeze Dean way to give me car sickness,' Sam quipped as he clutched at the dashboard with white knuckled fingers, 'want me to puke over ya or what?'

'Ahh come on Sammy where's your sense of adventure?' Dean said and reached over to gently slap Sam on his knee.

'Dean!' Sam whinged as he swiped at his brother's hand. 'We nearly there?'

'Yeah Sammy we're nearly there,' Dean singsonged back, 'actually it's just down the … what the…?'

'Dean what is it?'

'Ahh not sure but hang on tight kiddo,' Dean said as he pressed down a little more on the accelerator pedal kicking up stones and dust in their wake.

'Dean what is it?' Sam repeated his panic meter rising exponentially with each passing second, 'talk to me Dean.'

'Sorry kiddo, I forget sometimes that you … it's not looking good ahead of us … your ahh your vision was…'

'My vision … I was right wasn't I?' Sam asked.

'Yeah kiddo you were.' Dean said with a deep sigh.

S—D

Tentatively Sam stepped out of the van and felt the onslaught of pain, fear, no not fear outright terror and something else. Something a little more tangible: bloodlust.

'Dean?' Sam whispered hoarsely as he staggered away from the vehicle, 'no, no I can't … NO!' He screamed and clutched at the sides of his head as he dropped to his knees and his screams slowed down and morphed into high pitched keening. Collapsing to the ground Sam rolled onto his side and pulled his knees up until he curled into a foetal position.

Dean turned when he heard Sam's first cry but it felt as though he was moving in slow motion as he tried to reach his brother before he collapsed to the ground. 'No Sammy not now!' he breathed out as he ghosted his hand over his brother's inert form, 'talk to me kiddo.'

'Hurts … to … breath …' Sam puffed the words out as he tried to calm his erratic breathing, 'hurts … so … m-much.'

'Ah Sammy,' Dean said with a sigh when he heard the stuttering return, 'talk to me kiddo.'

'D-Dad … D-Dad … ah th-the … pain … make … it … stop!' Sam's back arched and his neck stretched back until the tendons corded and stood out, a primal scream erupted from deep within.

'Oh God Sam!' Dean cried out in a panic as he watched his brother writhe in pain, 'Cal? Rufus help me get him …'

'Parts of the clinic are still standing Dean we can take him in there,' Rufus said as he helped him gather Sam into his arms, his brother screamed as though a simple touch caused him absolute agony.

'Kay,' Dean nodded as he slowly stood on shaking legs and readjusted his brother's weight in his arms, 'hang on kiddo.'

'You right there Dude?' Caleb asked as he wrapped an arm around Dean's waist to help steady him.

'Yeah, yeah let's get Sam inside before anything else happens.' Dean said without any preamble.

'Da-dad … Bob-Bobby … pain … so … much pain …' Sam whimpered as he crushed his face against Dean's chest and tried to anchor himself through the waves of pain assaulting him.

'Easy Sammy, nice big breathes for me, come on in and out that's it,' Dean coached as he carried his baby brother into the parts of the clinic still standing. Sam bucked and cried out again this time he screamed Bobby's name and then he fell silent and slumped against Dean's chest into the warm embrace of unconsciousness.

'Who's there?' Rick cried out from the shadows too terror ridden to step closer to the intruders.

'Rick, Rick it's us … ' Dean called out, 'me and Sammy are here with Cal and Rufus.'

'Dean?' The young medic moved out of the shadows and stepped hesitantly towards the small group, 'Dean that you?'

'Yeah Doc, man I'm glad to see you alive…' Dean breathed as he tenderly laid Sam on one of the beds and covered him with a blanket, 'Sam needs your help again Doc.'

'The – the attack … demons … ate Debbie they-they ate her,' Rick said as he fixed on a bloodstain on the floor, 'they ripped them apart like rags … so much blood … so much pain.'

'Look Doc I need you to snap outta this,' Dean said as he strode towards the traumatised medic and gripped his shoulders tightly, shaking him in time with each of his words, 'Sam … needs … you!'

'Dean?' Rick blinked and focussed on the angry green eyes boring into him, 'Dean! You're alive!'

'Yeah but Sam needs help … he's gone into another empathic thingy … it's really bad this time he can't stand even being touched.'

'Okay let's see what's going on,' Rick said as he tried to hide his shaking hands, 'good to see you guys.'

'Good to see you too Doc, sorry bout Debbie and the others though.' Dean said softening his tone slightly, 'do you know what happened?'

'The attack … came from out of nowhere, bomb hit … they turned on each other so fast but your dad and Bobby kept the line … they – they were taken I'm sorry Dean but it did seem that they were the targets all along.'

'Caleb? Rufus?' Dean turned to look at his friends, 'can you? I can't leave Sammy.'

'Yeah, yeah don't sweat it Dude we're on it,' Caleb said privately feeling relieved to have something to do.

'Yeah we'll be back in a flash, take care of the Squirt.' Rufus said with a grin, hurrying out before he got an earful from the over-protective big brother.

S—D

_Sam turned around in circles as he tried to work out where he was and how he could suddenly see. He tried calling out for his brother but nothing came out, it was as though he was locked in a silent vacuum._

_Blinking rapidly he managed to focus on his surroundings as the spinning stopped, he was in a basement of some description but the walls were lined with chains and what looked like chunks of human flesh and organs. _

_His breathing became ragged and forced as he realised that the first things he could see after the returning of his sight was signs of death and torture. Two victims hung deathly still from shackles but it took Sam a couple of heartbeats before he realised just who they were._

_Sam tried to run towards them but his feet were fixed on the spot he stood on, tears ran down his face as felt the pain radiating from them, 'Dad! Bobby!' Sam screamed silently as he fought against the invisible hold keeping him in place, so he could only watch as shadow like wraiths appeared and continued their torture session on their victims._

Sam's eyes opened as he suddenly sat up and screamed, 'No Dad! Bobby!'

'Sam?' Dean sat down next to Sam and cupped his face in his hands, 'Sam hey, hey calm down it's just me.'

'Dean?' Sam hiccupped as he blindly reached for his brother; only then did he realise that he was once again blind. 'No not again!' he whispered as he fought the tears from rising as the depressive weight of his anguish mixed with pain and fear overrode everything else.

'Damn it Sam talk to me, tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours.' Dean pleaded.

'I-I saw them Dean, I saw Dad and Bobby,' Sam said as he buried his face against his brother's chest and started to sob, unable to hold back the tears any longer, 'I couldn't move, I couldn't talk all I could do was stand there and watch them – watch them hurt …'

'Ahh Sammy I'm sorry kiddo I wish I could do something for ya, I really do.'

'Make it go away Dean, please make it all go away?' Sam sobbed not caring if he sounded weak and pathetic. 'Just make it go way.'

S—D

Dean stood in the bedroom doorway and watched his brother tossing about in his sleep; Sam's words and sobs still ringing in his ears. _Had Sam had a vision or a dream or was it something else, something even nastier_?

'Penny for yer thoughts and all of that,' Caleb said as he came to a stop next to Dean's shoulder, 'how's he doing?'

'Doc gave him something to sleep but that aint no restful sleep,' Dean nudged his chin towards his restless brother.

'True, whatcha think about what Sam saw?'

'Truthfully? I dunno Cal, I mean I wanna think it was just a nightmare but…'

'With Sam it couldn't be that easy huh?'

'Before he got these empathic whatever's I'd say it was a run of the mill nightmare slash vision but now … and especially the way dad and Bobby disappeared I dunno Cal I think it was the real deal.'

'Yeah that's what me and Rufus thought too, Dean the kid said he could see them but he's still…'

'Blind as a bat … yep another little mystery to add to the ever-growing list.' Dean said as he shook his head, 'ahh I need coffee.'

'Bout time you had a good idea.' Caleb grinned and threw his arm around Dean's shoulders as he guided the younger man down the hallway picking their way through the debris from the bomb attack.

S—D

Sam listened intently for a few minutes making sure that he was alone, he had heard the quiet exchange between Dean and Caleb and his heart sank a little hearing the worry in his brother's voice. Taking a few deep breaths Sam slowly sat up and slid his feet over the edge of his bed, waiting for his dizziness to pass Sam concentrated on the sounds around him making sure that there was no one coming back near him anytime soon, if he didn't this now he'd never get the chance again.

Bracing himself against the bed frame Sam pulled himself up and waited a second or two for his sways to ease and then he found his tipped cane resting against the wall by his bed head. Pastor Jim had given him the modified cane knowing that it would help with Sam's confidence if he could get around independently on the odd occasion.

Frowning he steadied himself with one hand on the wall and cane in the other before he set off, determined to follow through with his plans no matter what. He hated being so weak and useless all of the time, it was bad enough before he lost his sight and became an empath but now … now he hated what he was becoming. He was a soldier, a warrior second in command to his brother, highly trained and skilled in combat and hand to hand fighting. He was not going to cower any longer or be anyone else's punching bag. He was going to get back his soul and spirit and he was going to bring back his father and Uncle Bobby.

Perhaps then Dean will see him as his second in command and not the blind brother in need of constant watching and protecting.

Pausing at the end of the hallway Sam moved his cane in front of him to make sure that there was nothing he could trip over as he continued outside. He could still feel his dad and Bobby; they were alive and though they were captive there was still a way of getting them back.

Sam knew the price he'd have to pay; the only ransom he knew of that he could possibly possess and he was willing to pay it to get them back. They were worth that and so much more.

S—D

'So Sammy sneaking out … isn't that more my style than yours?' Dean's said smirking at the stunned look on his brother's face, he could still rattle his psychic empath brother when he put his mind to it.

'D-Dean?' Sam stammered slightly as he came to a complete halt and focussed on listening to the sounds around them and then zeroing in on Dean's direction.

'Where you goin anyway little bro?' Dean asked and shifted his stance slightly so that he was leaning completely against the impala's trunk.

'J-just for a walk,'

'a walk huh?'

'Ahh yeah just for a walk it was … the walls were starting to close in a little I just needed some fresh air.'

'Oh I see, so you didn't want company?'

'I can do some things on my own ya know Dean.'

'Yeah I know but it's kind of a bad time to go roaming about on your own Sam, you know with dad and Bobby snatched and the demons breathing down the backs of our necks to get in here to off the rest of us, hmm yeah not a great time kiddo.'

'Why Dean?' Sam snapped his anger getting the better of him, 'coz I'm blind or coz I'm a blind kid who can't take a piss without a body guard?'

'No Sam you know that's not right but with your – your gifts going out of control and yes your blindness you have to be smart about this Sam.'

'Oh now I'm not smart huh?'

'You're too freaking smart for your own good that's why I'm going with you.' Dean said as he straightened up and jangled his car keys in front of Sam's face.

'What? No! No Dean you can't come I can't…'

'You can't what Sam?'

'I can't get dad and Bobby freed if you're with me,' Sam said hanging his head slightly, 'I have to do this on my own.'

'And what is that exactly Sam?' Dean asked stepping closer to his little brother his voice icy calm, 'what can you do without me?'

'I – I can…'

'you can sacrifice yourself is that what you were going to say? That you are the best ransom for dad and Bobby?'

'Dean…'

'No Sam … aint gonna happen, now we can go and get them together or you can march yourself back to your room now.'

'I am not a bab…what? You … you want to come with me?'

'Am I gonna be able to stop you?'

'N-no…'

'Well then we may as well go together at least I can keep you safe, but we do this my way.'

'No Dean, no you … I am doing what I have to do.'

'Which is?'

Sam sighed and cocked his head slightly, with the perfect bitch face he seemed as though he was staring straight down at Dean, 'going with you.'

'Awesome, so the car's packed and the guys are already briefed,' Dean said as he got in behind the wheel of his car, 'so Sammy you coming or what?'

'I'm coming.' Sam said as he ran his finger along the car guiding him to the passenger side of the car, 'hey Dean? Can I drive?'

S—D

A low pain filled groan reverberated throughout the dark basement, another groan followed it along with a muffled cuss and the sound of shuffling and movement in the pitch black. The air was filled with the pungent odour of coppery blood, human waste, rotted meat and sulphur reaking throughout the oxygen deprived air.

The room itself was carved out of the dirt and rocks beneath the house, created solely for one purpose; with no flooring or proper walls it was more like a cave than a room. A narrow set of stairs led to the building upstairs, with a metal trapdoor seperating them. A bare light bulb dangled from an extension lead hooked through a metal hoop nailed into the wooden railing next to the stairs.

A clanking of chains preceded another bout of cursing and moans although a different voice this time. Still pained, deep and whiskey roughened there was a slight difference in pitch and maturity. Two men, similar but still very distinct in their speech, tone and preferred methods of communicating their emotions, or lack of.

'Bobby that you?' John managed to get out after three attempts at speaking without coughing or gasping for air and relief from his constant pain. 'Bobby can you…?'

'Shut it ya idjit my head is splitting in two … damn it shut that racket off.'

'Ah what racket Bobby?'

'That ringing … why don't someone answer that frigging phone?' Bobby grumbled hoarsely.

'Ahh I see that my guests are now awake,' a third voice joined in the conversation, 'tell me gentlemen how did you sleep?'

'Why don'tcha come one down and find out?' John said in an almost growl, 'ahh shit, fuck, shit that … too bright.' John gasped as the light bulb was turned on and the room was immediately filled with bright light, searing into the tender eyes of the two captives.

'Now, now John language,' the new arrival seemingly glided down the stairs and came to a stop clearly out of arm's reach of the shackled prisoners. 'You know better than that.' With a flick of a wrist, John started to choke gasping for air as an invisible force wrapped itself around his throat and squeezed. Desperately he clawed at his neck trying to dislodge the force but the more he fought the tighter it squeezed.

'Stop it, damn it stop it ya killin' him.' Bobby yelled as he strained against his own chains to reach his friend.

'Hmm I suppose if you beg I might…'

'Please stop it he's no good to ya dead, please…' Bobby begged his pride slithering away with each uttered syllable.

A cold laugh and a flick of the same wrist was all that happened when John slumped against the wall, vivid black and purple bruises forming around his throat as he gasped and fought for each breath. 'See now that wasn't too bad was it?'

'What do you want?' Bobby asked wanting the focus to remain on him, giving John time to regain his breath and composure.

'Hmm now that is an interesting question, what do I want?' the man asked as his eyes glinted a fiery yellow and he made a show of flicking an imaginary piece of fluff from his suit sleeve and considered the two men huddled on the floor before him, 'you two are rather dirty and smelly aren't you?'

'Yeah well we're gonna lodge a complaint with the management on the accommodation here, could do with some work.' Bobby said glancing over at John for a second to make sure that the younger man was still breathing before returning his attention back to his tormentor. 'So who are ya again?'

'Oh I have a few names, officially Azazel but I hear that you … _hunters _… call me YED.' The demon laughed crouched down in front of Bobby, 'Robert Singer, aka Bobby Singer, former salvage yard owner, former husband, former hunter and current second-in-command of one Jonathon Winchester.' Azazel said as he turned his attention to John, 'and you Jonathon Winchester, former marine, former mechanic, former husband, former hunter, current commander of the so-called rebellion and former father of two rather tiresome boys.'

'Aint no former bout it,' John rasped out his abused throat feeling as though it was closing in on itself.

'So you know us, tell us about you,' Bobby tried once again to bring the demon's attention back to him.

'The only thing you need to know about me, is that I am going to be the new Lord and Master of your pathetic world and that you should be begging me to kill you quickly.'

'Big words for a little man,' John gasped.

'Such bravado for a dying man,' Azazel sneered as he stood and conjured a seat for himself against the wall, sliding elegantly into the high-backed leather chair, he crossed his legs and neatly folded his hands on his lap, giving the appearance of waiting for someone or something.

'Now what?' Bobby hissed, 'you gonna sit there and bore us to death?'

'Oh I'm just waiting for our guests to arrive I am thinking though that we could receive our guests in one of the more hospitable rooms,' the demon smiled at the two human before clicking his fingers.

S—D

'Sonovabitch!' Bobby yelped as he felt himself falling and then his descent was halted at the end of short chain with a bone jarring viciousness. As the red haze of pain started to lift Bobby managed to look up to see that his wrists were trapped in heaving iron shackles at the end of a short thick chain. Suspending him high enough so that his toes barely scrapped the floor. As he tried to control his breathing, he felt the scraping of bone on bone and the memory of his ribs crunching and cracking during the fight before they were captured. The cracks were now breaks and there were at least three of them. 'What the hell? John? John you still with me?'

'B-Bobby?' John whispered his voice barely audible now as his throat had almost completely swollen shut, 'wha-what happ'd?'

'He moved us the flaming idjit,' Bobby said as he tried to get a look at his friend his worry meter spiking when he was able to finally get a clear view, 'ahh dammit Johnny yer a mess.'

'Takes one,' John tried to deflect the worry in Bobby's voice but before he could finish his quip he started coughing uncontrollably unable to draw in enough breath to stop.

Bobby stared openly in horror as he took a good look at John's injuries; aside from the bruising around his neck from the most recent abuse, his face was a mess of bruises and shallow cuts, one eye was swollen shut and clear liquid oozed from the outside corner, turning pink-red as it absorbed the blood on contact. John's once grey and black beard was now black and red, the grey dyed by blood staining his face and chin.

But the awkward shape of his right wrist had Bobby shuddering, bone glistened through the skin amongst the swelling and bruising; John's bare chest was a mess of more bruises and long shallow slices from a knife crisscrossed his torso from side to side.

'Ah John what have they done to ya?' Bobby whispered as he let his gaze drop checking on John's damaged ankle and bleeding bare feet as they scrapped across the floor boards. 'How are the hell are ya still alive ya idjit?'

'Gentlemen forgive my sudden disappearance it seems that our visitors are early,' Azazel said smirking as he appeared in front of Bobby and John again, he arched his eyebrow as he cast an appreciative glance over his prisoners. 'Perfect couldn't have done it better myself, oh wait I did do that myself.'

'Oh funny … why don'tcha come closer and we can really enjoy your little jokes,' Bobby hissed his anger finally taking over and forcing his pain and weariness back.


	16. Chapter 15 part 2

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

See the start of part one for information on why I split this...

enjoy and if you can please leave a review...

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

Chapter 15 part two

'Oh I wish … if we had more time we could have some … fun dear Robert but as I said our guests are early.' Azazel waved his hand and the door opened just as two men dressed in suits and looking like extras in a James Bond movie came in with two younger men between them.

'Dad! Bobby!' Dean and Sam cried out in unison, Dean's eyes filled with tears at the sight of the damage done to his father and uncle, Sam's voice was rich with tears as he felt the weight of their combined pain and hurt.

'Ah boys we have been expecting you, although you're a little early,' Azazel said clapping his hands a couple of times in excitement, 'now can we get down to business?'

'Wh-what business?' Dean asked as he supported Sam against him, 'what are you talking about?'

'Sam knows what I'm talking about don't you kiddo?' Azazel said as he glided towards the stricken teenager, 'I take it you got my message?' he asked tapping Sam's left temple, 'I had the best of the best deliver it.'

'Yeah I got it,' Sam ground out as he tried to pull away from the poisonous touch.

'S-Sam? What … is … he … Sammy?' John tried to lift his head to focus on his sons but it was getting even harder to stay conscious let alone to concentrate on anything or anyone.

'Dad?' Dean looked up from Sam and stared at his father in horror, 'oh God … Dad? Bobby?'

'They're a little under the weather right now Deano, but your brother here he can do something about that can't you my darling boy?'

'Leave Sam alone!' Dean growled as stepped in front of Sam, shielding him with his own body, 'you're not going anywhere near him.'

'Sam … Sam you can feel it can't you? The pain, the agony of their wounds too numerous to list … you want to heal them so bad it hurts you doesn't it, gives you your own physical pain doesn't it.'

'Leave my son alone,' John rasped as he fought off the white fog descending over him, 'he's not doing anything for you!'

'Tsk, tsk Johnny you spoke out of turn,' Azazel turned to face John his eyes flashing an angry yellow as he swiped at the air and smiled as John slammed against the wall with a sickening thud before swinging back to his original position suspended from the chain.

'Dad!' Dean yelled as he struggled to stay with Sam and not attack their tormentor to save their dad but Sam was too vulnerable alone.

'Dad!' Sam screamed as the pain reverberated through his body, the feel of the impact so strong it winded him and he dropped to his knees gasping for air.

'Stop it ya bastard … leave him alone!' Bobby fought against the shackles in a vain attempt to free himself.

'So Deano you just decided to walk in with your blind brother? Not very smart thinking there kid!' Azazel taunted Dean.

'Yeah well I'm just full of surprises,' Dean grinned cheekily, with a flick of his own wrist Dean splashed holy water over their guards causing them to scream and drop to the floor writhing in agony and clawing at their faces. Making sure that Sam was still behind him Dean decided to make his final stand and pulled a gun from a holster strapped to his back and hidden by his leather jacket and shirts; in one fast sharp move Dean had the gun cocked and aimed at Azazel, 'say hi to the colt.' He said as he pulled the trigger, the perfect mask fixed on his handsome face covering his warring emotions and inner turmoil and his eyes cold, flat and unblinking, the green so dark they appeared black, 'this ends now!'

Time seemingly stopped in that split second as the bullet left the colt and sped towards its intended target; the left side of the chest, the centre of the dead heart. Azazel blinked and a frown puckered his brow as he realised he had slightly underestimated the Winchester boy.

'Seems like we're gonna have to conceded this battle but I will be seeing you again very soon Sammy my boy.' The demon grinned as his head dropped back and jaw stretched open allowing a thick, oily black smoke to spew out, filling the room with the stench of sulphur as it escaped through cracks in the ceiling. The bullet passed through the air where the demonically possessed man had been standing mere seconds ago and lodged harmlessly in the rear wall.

Silence descended over the remaining occupants of the room as they all tried to understand what had just happened.

'Well that's just freaking great!' Dean said his voice rising to the point of yelling "great", 'now what?'

'Dean?' Sam whispered flailing his hand in front of him desperate to make contact with his brother's leg, 'Dean where are you?'

'Here Sammy, I'm right here,' Dean swallowed down on his rising temper and forced himself to concentrate on getting his family out of there, all three of them. Tenderly he palmed Sam's cheek before helping him to his feet, he could feel the trembling of Sam's limbs and the heat emanating from the teenager, 'Fuck Sammy you're burning up.'

'Gotta … help … them.' Sam said gasping for breath as another wave of fresh pain washed over him, 'D-Dad, Bob-Bobby.'

'Sam you can't … it's too much,' Dean said as he led his brother over to where John and Bobby were still shackled and hanging.

'Gotta Dean, it's killing me not…' Sam implored his brother, and even with his blind eyes he managed the pathetic puppy dog look.

'We're gotta get outta here before he comes back with reinforcements.' Dean countered as he guided Sam to a chair, 'sit here for a minute while I get dad and Bobby down.'

'Down?' Sam asked his voice shaky and barely audible.

'They're hanging from cuffs and chains,' Dean said as he squeezed Sam's shoulder for a brief second, 'now stay put Sam … please.'

S-D

Sam waited and listened intently, inwardly cursing his blindness, making him feel so useless and like a waste of space, a burden for his already over-burdened family.

'Stay with me Sam, I'm getting Bobby down first,' Dean said explaining what he was doing to his very skittish teenaged brother, the kid looked as though he was ready to jump through the roof at the slightest provocation.

'Don't worry bout me ya idjit, git yer daddy,' Bobby grumbled at Dean but the gratitude and relief in his eyes said it all to the younger man.

'Don't worry Bobby, I nearly gotcha…' Dean grunted as he stretched a little more and finally got the pick into the lock and had Bobby's limp form in his arms so he could gently guide him to the floor. Using his leather jacket to roll into a makeshift pillow Dean eased it under Bobby's head and tenderly patted his shoulder, 'don't go anywhere.'

'Idjit!' Bobby said with a fond grin as he finally let the blessed relief of unconsciousness wash over him.

Dean turned around just as Sam started shuffling towards them with a determined look on his face intent on healing Bobby. 'Dammit Sammy…'

'Gotta Dean can't …' Sam said as he reached his destination and dropped to his knees at Bobby's side, he ghosted a shaking hand over his "uncle's" face and chest, a frown creased his brow as he concentrated and silently catalogued the many and varied injuries. Minor ones disappeared almost immediately as he passed his fingers over them but others pulled everything out of him.

Dean shook his head and turned to their father, tears trickled down his face but he never made a sound as he positioned himself to pick the cuff's lock and to catch his father just as he did with Bobby.

'Oh God dad!' Dean sobbed, he could barely feel a pulse and the space between each laboured breath was becoming longer and shallower.

'Dean?' Sam lifted his head and tried to workout where his brother was exactly from the direction of his voice, 'where, what? Dad?'

'It's okay Sammy,' Dean ground out, 'just help Bobby for now.'

'Bobby lifted a hand and placed it on Sam's, 'it's okay lad, you've done enough for me now,' he said, sounding tired and still in pain but stronger.

'Bobby I still … need … to…' Sam shook his head and went back to work on Bobby, his hands hovering over the damaged flesh as a warm golden glow pulsated between them.

'No, no Sam I'm … alright now… rest,' Bobby said this time he took Sam's hand in his and broke the connection between them, 'ya helped me ya idjit, now let me up.'

S—D

With Sam's reluctant help Bobby managed to sit upright and gave the teen an appreciative grin and pat on the shoulder, 'thanks kiddo.'

Sam shook his head and turned away from Bobby slightly, 'no … don't … it's … coz … of … me.'

'Ya idjit aint nothin' to do with ya, it's war and these dogs are out an' biting,' Bobby growled giving Sam a soft cuff over the back his head, 'ya hear me?'

S—D

'Dean?' John whispered as he clutched weakly at his eldest son's hand, 'Dean look after Sammy,'

'You know I will dad,' Dean said his voice thick with tears.

'Dean I – I …' John's voice faded even more causing Dean to lean down and crouch as low as possible against John, his ear against his father's mouth.

'Dad … no … no…' Dean sat up, his face paling to a chalky white, 'you … can't…'

'Dad?' Sam's pain filled cry snapped Dean out of his stunned stupor and he turned just in time to see Sam sway and stumble in an effort to get to his father.

'No Sammy,' John turned his head enough to watch his youngest son make his way towards him, 'don't let him Dean.'

'Dad he has to … please …'

Sam felt Bobby's presence next to him and he felt the soul rip into two as the weight of both injured men crushed his waning strength; but if his death meant that both his father and his uncle could live … it was enough for Sam.

Slipping in a pool of congealing blood Sam dropped heavily to his knees, dizzy and nauseous he fought to regain his equilibrium and sense of direction before he reached out to feel his way towards his fallen parent. 'Dean where are you?' Sam asked unsure of where his brother's vibrations were coming from.

'Just on the other side of dad,' Dean said, he felt himself being torn into two, he knew that Sam could or rather would die before he finished healing their dying father, but he knew that he couldn't stop Sam and even if he did stop him that meant that John will die. A lone tear ran down Dean's cheek as he also tried to understand what his father had just told him, asked him. Was it just dad's pain and fever addled mind playing on his fears or was there something to it? _Can I really do what dad asked me? What do I do now? Can someone tell me what do I do now?'_

S—D

Hesitantly Sam reached out and placed his hand on John's chest, the pain radiating from within his dad was different to Bobby's. still physical and still breathtakingly fierce but there was a different taste to it, as the realisation hit him Sam pulled his touch away from his father and sat back a little in shock.

'Sam?' Bobby frowned when he saw the kid pull away from John before he even tried to heal him, 'what's wrong?'

'Sammy? What is it?' Dean asked horrified at the thought that the dad was dead.

'N-Nothing I guess,' Sam stammered and once again placed one hand on John's chest and the other one on his forehead as the light started to pulsate starting the healing process.

'No … Sam!' John pushed the words out, 'don't … son.' He lifted a shaking hand and tried to push Sam away but the link between them was too strong and wide open.

Sam gasped at the contact but was lost within the healing itself, instead of staying outside and detached from the one he was helping, this time he found himself drawn into the light. Feeling stronger than he had for a very long time Sam opened his eyes and found that he could see, although everything and everyone were bathed in golden hues radiating with warmth and calm.

Sam looked down at his own hands as they stretched out over his father's ruined flesh and muscles. His fingers moved in a lithe dance painting sigils over each wound, repairing the tendons, muscle and bone. His entire body shook as the power of healing coursed through him, and he tried to pull back and reign in the light but it had become too much almost as though it had a life of its own.

Suddenly, a cold white wave crashed down on him, swallowing the healing gold and freezing it all. Gasping for breath Sam fought to break free from the icy tendrils as they wound themselves around him and last of the healing strands.

'Goodbye Son.' John's voice echoed in Sam's mind as the white wave smothered the last golden embers and Sam was filled with the iciness of death.

S—D

Dean watched as Sam started to attempt to heal their dying father, he reached out intent on stopping him when Bobby grabbed his forearm and shook his head no, 'leave him Dean he has to do this.'

'Can't Bobby, you don't understand,' Dean said tugging his arm out of Bobby's grip, 'it's gonna kill him, dad's already dying and it'll take Sam too.'

'Dean we can't stop him from doing this … true empaths die if they are forcibly stopped from healing, it's got to do with the connection of their psychic abilities and their empathic abilities. Forcing him to stop the healing will virtually rip him apart.'

'I can't sit here and watch them die Bobby, I can't … I won't.' Dean protested vehemently, with his mind made up Dean went to separate Sam and John when a primal scream from deep within Sam broke the silence. 'Sammy?'

'What the hell?' Bobby gasped in shock, 'John?'

Dean moved next to his father again and placed a finger against his carotid artery, 'Bobby … there's no pulse … Dad?'

'Check his breathes …'

'Nothing, damn Bobby it's so cold all of a sudden.'

'No dad!' Sam screamed again as he was thrown against the wall behind him, shivering violently Sam tried to curl in on himself, trapped in a white prison now and not the perpetual darkness, he sobbed and panted as the pain rampaged throughout his frail body.

'Sam, Sammy?' Dean cried out as he ran to his brother's side, 'talk to me Sammy.'

'It's … Sam!' Sam ground out as he fixated on Dean's voice, the only anchor he had left in his own reality.

'Sammy talk to me dude, what happened?' Dean asked as he quickly checked his brother for any new injuries or flair ups of older ones, 'what's the use of healing if you can't heal yourself kiddo?'

'Dad?' Sam asked as he coughed and spat out a globule of blood.

'Sam … ah dad he's …'

'dead.' Sam said flatly, 'he died while I tried to heal him?'

'I-I think so but he was already … he was living on borrowed time Sam, I dunno how he survived as long as he did.' Dean said trying to sound in control when his own emotions raged out of control flooding throughout his being.

'I killed him?' Sam wept turning his face away from Dean's direct stare.

Tenderly Dean reached around and caught Sam's chin making him turn his face back, 'listen to me Sam … when you were healing Bobby … dad he … he said goodbye … he was beyond help Sam they were using him, keeping him alive only to get you to … what the hell were you thinking Sam?'

'You're really gonna start that now Dean?' Sam asked incredulously and then a small shy smile played on his lips, 'thanks dude.'

'Whatever Sammy,' Dean brushed it aside and was for once thankful that Sam was blind, he could hide his own broken heart from his brother without having to keep his facial mask in place.

S—D

Stumbling under the weight of his dead father, Dean finally managed to carry him out to the impala, Bobby still too weak and ill to help carry John was content with helping to guide Sam out. As he braced the teenager against his side, Bobby could feel the tremors pass through Sam and he cast a worried glance at the kid. Sam was more than just pale, he had no colour left in his face save for two small patches of red on each cheek. Black circles ringed his eyes making them look bruised although, what had Bobby worried was his mouth. Sam's lips were practically transparent; his upper lip was crusted with dried flakes of blood.

'You feeling okay there kiddo?' Bobby asked.

'Yeah I'm tired but okay,' Sam said ducking his head a little, 'where's Dean?'

'Just ahead of us with yer daddy,' Bobby said truthfully, 'he's about to put him in the car.'

'Bobby? Can I ask you something?'

'Yeah sure kiddo anything what is it?'

'Is Dean really all alright?'

'Whatcha mean by that?'

'Just with everything that's happened and now … dad's dying.'

'Yeah he's doing okay I guess, now don'tcha get too hooked up with how everyone's going Sam, you've gotta look after yerself as well.'

'When I was healing dad … there was a - a cold white … dunno it forced me out of the healing and then …'

'Maybe it was yer daddy's passing that did it?' Bobby suggested, 'Dean's coming back to us.'

'Don't tell him please Bobby, he's got too much to worry bout now.' Sam implored Bobby turning his full on kicked puppy look complete with tears.

'For now Sam, I won't for now.' Bobby said although he already regretted agreeing to Sam's request.

S—D

The remaining members of the resistance stood around the funeral pyre in silence; those who couldn't stand were either in wheelchairs or had seats brought out for them. John's shrouded body lay on top of the pyre, the flag for the command post, torn, burnt and dirtied was draped over his body along with a spray of dried Rosemary and his favourite hunting knife.

They all stood and waited for the last four mourners to arrive before the short ceremony could begin. Finally, they heard the rumble of a certain car, and the distant beat of classic rock and moved aside slightly when Dean parked the impala and got out. He went around to the passenger side and helped a fragile looking Sam out of the front seat, Bobby and Pastor Jim both emerged from the backseat and followed the brothers to the pyre.

Dean squared his shoulders and fixed a cool emotionless mask on his face as he guided a trembling Sam towards their father's funeral, he had to keep it together for Sam's sake, and then later he'd get quietly drunk.

'You okay Sammy?' Dean asked his voice just loud enough for Sam to hear.

'Yeah I – I guess so, it just doesn't feel right Dean…'

'I know Sammy…'

'No, I – I oh I dunno Dean maybe it's just me…'

'You feelin' alright Sam?' Dean asked and stopped walking to turn and face his brother, he cupped Sam's cheek and pulled him a little closer, 'we can just go if you want.'

'No, no it's okay Dean, I'll be okay,' Sam said but as he went to step away from Dean he swayed and gasped. 'Hurts Dean.' He whimpered.

'Sammy?' Dean hugged his brother tightly while he stared around at the small group of fighters and hunters before turning his attention to the perimeter, something didn't feel right but he couldn't see anything or anyone out of place.

'Boys – everything alright?' Pastor Jim asked stopping next to the brothers with Bobby when they noticed that neither of the boys were showing any signs of moving closer.

'Yeah Sam just tripped on a stone that's all,' Dean said and then tucked Sam under his arm and side by side they continued on to their father's funeral and farewell.

S—D

As the flames licked at John's body and the smoke filled the evening air, Dean found himself lost in memories. Faded, and slightly jaded memories with their mother and happier times. But as quick as they came to him they left and were replaced with more recent memories, the war, bloodied battles, fighting at his father's side, late night command meetings, locking heads with John over Sam. Playing forts and soldiers in big boxes next to John's desk while he strategised with his lieutenants and advisors. They all played in front of Dean's eyes like a movie blurring one into another as they finally slowed down and cleared his vision.

S—D

Sam felt the heat of the flames on his face but nothing rid him of the chill that had settled deep within him. He listened as one person after another spoke of his father, from the funny tales to the heartbreakingly tragic ones. Exploits with girls before he married Mary, to the births of Dean and Sam, and then his bravery as commander of their ragtag team of rebels. Sam's chest ached with unreleased sobs, he refused to let them go; his own guilt weighing him down was a big enough stopper to keep them repressed.

'Sammy?' Dean nudged his brother with his shoulder, 'time to go dude.'

'Where?'

'Huh?'

'Where do we go Dean?' Sam asked tiredly, 'I'm so tired Dean.'

'I know kiddo, command has been compromised so we're gonna fall back to Pastor Jim's for now.' Dean said as he refused to give in to his grief.

'Dean?'

'We've got a war to win Sam, we can't do it sitting here in the ruins of the command post we have to regroup and start again.'

'Dean…'

'No Sam no arguments we have to keep the fight …'

'Yeah I – I know Dean it's not that…' Sam tried to put the words together to try and explain what he was feeling when he felt the iciness invade his mind again, winding itself around his mind and freezing his thoughts, _what was I going to say?_

'Sam what it is dude? You're zoning out on me.'

'Dean I – I …' Sam twisted his fingers into the lapels of Dean's leather jacket and used his brother's solidness as an anchor, letting his own unique scent flood through his senses calming him, bringing him back from the edge of the icy wastelands. 'I'm okay now,' he whispered as he buried his face against Dean's chest, 'sorry for the chick flick moment.' He added sheepishly as he started to pull away from his brother.

'Yeah right,' Dean said as he held onto Sam a second or two longer before reluctantly letting him move back. 'As long as you're okay.'

'Yeah just a little dizzy.'

'Listen you two idjits, we've gotta get you two outta here now,' Bobby said as he limped towards them as fast as he could.

Looking up Dean realised belatedly that everyone had left, leaving the brothers to their own private grief and farewells. 'Bobby?'

'You two have to get outta here now, take the impala and git going I'll meet ya at Pastor Jim's as soon as I can.'

'What's wrong Bobby?' Dean demanded stubbornly digging in his heels, 'with dad gone I'm …'

'Yeah, yeah well you can do that when you and yer brother are safe at Blue Earth, not arguing with you over this Dean, it's not negotiable.'

'What's happening Bobby?' Sam asked, wincing with the sudden pain spiking through his mind.

_The stench of gunpowder and death hung in the air, making them choke as they tried to breath. The moans of spirits filled the air over the ancient cemetery, graves centuries old upturned and releasing those interred in the earth. Foul and horrific creatures fed off the bones of the dead, crunching them into dust._

_The haze and smoke cleared letting a full moon cast bright light over the ground. Heavy and pregnant it hung in the sky ready to birth at any moment. The brightness pulsated with each pain of "birth" as it stared down at the scarred earth below._

_Scarlet streaks wove along the horizon, ribbons of blood against the velvet blackness of the sky studded with fading lights._

_Attacks raged around the small church in Blue Earth, somehow though the church remained untouched, free from any form of conflict or destruction. They stood shoulder to shoulder ready to protect those weaker and in need, those who now sought refuge in the church. Hallowed ground, incense burnt away masking the foul stench of death, chants of prayers and strains of hymns cried out to an entity in the sky._

_The entity in the sky, velvet black studded with tiny silver lights fading and strands of scarlet ribboned and knotted sealing in the good and evil._

_The cries of the dying screamed in Sam's mind, his body was being torn apart inside and out; the pain and anguish slowly killed him. Long fingers of razor sharp ice ripped into his flesh and gripped his limbs as they pulled him apart._

_'Can't tell Sam the secret, can't tell Sam.' Dean's voice echoed in Sam's mind as he fought against the ice attack, when he saw Dean collapse. Screaming Sam ran towards his fallen brother although, the closer he got to Dean the further he had to run. When he finally reached him, Sam dropped to his knees he rolled his brother over and stared down in horror. Dean's eyes were burnt out, all that remained were the charred sockets, his mouth wide open and filled with blood but no sound or breath passed over his lips._

_Sam gasped and tried to pull away when his brother suddenly sat up and gripped Sam's arms pulling him down towards Dean. He screamed as the vice-like grip crushed his arms, pulverising his bones to dust and then he was thrown backwards landing hard on his back. Dean's eyeless face hovered over Sam as he shoved his hand into Sam's chest and pulled out his heart …_

Sam screamed until his voice gave out and then he collapsed bonelessly against his brother's chest, sweat ran down his face and throat as he burned from the ice hand killing him by slowly squeezing his heart. Unable to call out for help Sam flailed blindly seeking the solidness of his brother; the only anchor for him in reality. Where was Dean?


	17. Chapter 16

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

Author's Note: Big apologies for the slowness of my updates, I can give a list of reasons why but when it all boils down it is exhaustion, I'm just so tired and it has been hard getting words down in a cohesive manner. I have so many ideas and thoughts running around in my imagination and disrupting my dreams. I am catching up with my studies I am actually working on the Master's units now which is hard, at the moment though I am doing Scriptwriting and working on a feature film script - supernatural horror of course! LOL

So if you can stay with me and just be patient a little longer I promise that I will get this story moving again as well as some new ones.

Reviews of course are the best fuel to get rid of the blahs and exhaustion so ... you know what to do at the end...

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

Chapter Sixteen

**Then:**

_Sam screamed until his voice gave out and then he collapsed bonelessly against his brother's chest, sweat ran down his face and throat as he burned from the ice hand killing him by slowly squeezing his heart. Unable to call out for help Sam flailed blindly seeking the solidness of his brother; the only anchor for him in reality. Where was Dean?_

**Now:**

The deep of night is crept upon our talk,  
And nature must obey necessity.

(Julius Caesar 4.3.251)

'Sammy, dammit Sammy talk to me!' Dean cried out and pulled his brother tight against his chest; Sam was fading away and Dean was powerless to stop him.

'Dean we have to go,' Bobby tried to get through to the stricken younger man, he felt the evil surging towards them and the boys were too vulnerable. 'Damn it boy git yer brother up and git moving now!'

Dean looked up and blinked at Bobby, he tried to workout what the other man had said but it was all just a rush of jumbled words echoing in his ears. He felt the calloused hand grip his arm and heave both himself and Sam up off the ground. 'Bobby?'

'Git going now Dean!' Bobby yelled, he pressed his face in as close as he could to Dean's, not caring if he invaded personal space or any of that shit he wanted to boys out of there. 'We're outta time ya idjit, if we don't get going now we're all gonna be dead! That means Sam too.'

Bobby let out a bark of laughter when mentioning Sam in danger was the only thing that had pierced whatever barriers Dean had erected around himself.

Supporting Sam between them, Bobby and Dean ran for the impala just as bullets whizzed through the air around them. Thunder and lightening cracked across the sky, an unearthly, unholy storm preceded the attack. Azazel used the death and funeral of John Winchester as the kick start to the next phase of annihilating the rebellion; forcing humanity into submission. The beginning of the end starts now.

Sam sat with his face pressed against the coolness of the passenger side window, his head felt as though a red hot dagger had been driven into his skull and lodged in his brain. The only reprieve was the fact that all he saw was white now and not an eternal darkness and that helped. It may not be something tangible like being able to see again but he was no longer shrouded in absolute blackness, nothingness.

'Dean?' he finally spoke up his voice sounding rough and unused, he cleared his throat and tried again a little louder, 'Dean?'

'Yeah dude?' Dean glanced over at his brother before checking in the rear vision mirror to make sure Bobby was behind them and then he returned his attention the road ahead of them.

'I – I don't think we should go back to Blue Earth.'

'What? Why?' Dean sputtered as he turned the music down and gave his brother his full attention, 'what was in that vision?'

'They attack Blue Earth and the church coz we're there Dean, Azazel is after us and will hurt everyone we're near or in touch with. Pastor Jim …' Sam's voice broke and with a muffled sob he turned his sightless eyes in his brother's direction, 'I won't let anyone else die Dean.'

Slowing down enough, Dean indicated his intent on pulling off the road and into an area for truckers to pull into to, after making sure that Bobby was pulling in behind them Dean turned the motor off and twisted around to face his brother, 'wait till Bobby's in … hey Bobby.'

'What's going on idjits?' Bobby asked as he got into the backseat, his gaze immediately falling on Sam, 'you alright kiddo?'

'Yeah I'm fine now Uncle Bobby,' Sam gave his uncle a small smile.

'Sam had a warning in his vision about Blue Earth,' Dean said and turned a little more in his seat to see Bobby as well as Sam.

'Which was?'

'I-I saw an attack on the church and Blue Earth coz me and Dean were there, we lost a lot of people including Pastor Jim,' Sam said hesitantly at first but once he started the words came out in a rush and one of the weights he felt was lifted from Sam's soul.

'So tell me what exactly did you see?' Bobby asked Sam, although the kid was talking Bobby had a feeling deep down that he was leaving a lot out.

'It started out the same as the other major attacks, at night but the moon was different this time.'

'How was it different Sam?' Bobby asked his curiosity piquing already, a new moon was due but that was not anything new.

'It – it was like it was … pregnant, big and heavy and heaving like it was trying to push something out,' Sam said softly, 'sounds so stupid now when I say it out loud.' He added embarrassed.

'Nothing of the kind Sam, sounds like something those creatures would do to mix it up and to try and get us off guard,' Bobby said as he traded worried glances with Dean, 'what else?'

'The church wasn't damaged at all, umm Pastor Jim died and Dean …' Sam's voice faded as he shut down again lost in his own thoughts, _How can I tell Dean what I saw? How can I tell him I saw his eyes burnt out and that he tried to kill me?_

Dean turned around to face Bobby mouthing 'what the?' as they both watched Sam slide back into himself. A sudden surge of anger washed over Dean and he had to get out of the car. Sam's frailty wore him down, he was supposed to protect him, to look after him but how can he when Sam was so broken to begin with.

Without another word he got out of the car, instantly regretting the slamming of his door but he knew that his baby could take it and it was better for him to be out and away from Sam just for a few moments to pull himself together and to rid himself of the all-consuming rage he was feeling.

Bobby got out of the car and settled against it, content on watching over the young hothead while he worked off some steam while Sam rested albeit it not happily in the car.

'This is all full of shit!' Dean ranted kicking at the loose stones, 'fucking bullshit!' he turned to stare at Bobby, his dark green eyes glittering dangerously in the fading moonlight. They were alone, all alone, family and friends all succumbing to the attacks and ongoing battles. They were tired, hurting and losing numbers faster than they can replace them. _How the hell are we supposed to fight them? God if you're really there, what are we supposed to do? How can we win?_

'You finished yer hissy fit yet?' Bobby asked and pulled out his hip flask, 'want a shot?'

'Thanks,' Dean said hoarsely as he took a swig of the fiery liquid, 'sorry Bobby.'

'Aint me you should be sayin' sorry to,' Bobby tilted his head in Sam's direction, 'that kid needs ya Dean.'

'I know Bobby but …'

'And I guess ya stuck with me if ya need anyone,' Bobby said between mouthfuls of whiskey.

'Aw gee man thanks, does that mean we have to hug now though?' Dean grinned ducking the "fatherly" cuff over the back of his head.

'Ya aint too big ya know, I used to put ya across me knee when I had ta.' Bobby grinned and nudged Dean's shoulder with his, 'so if we can't go to Pastor Jim's where next?'

'What about your place Bobby?' Sam asked as he stood by his side of the car, smirking when he heard the muffled curses at being startled by him.

'Thought you were asleep Sam,' Dean grumbled, 'how long you been standing there anyway?'

'Just got out of the car now, couldn't hear either of you in there so I thought that you must have gotten out of the car … or that something had taken you and then I was gonna have to drive the car while blind.'

'Sam! Don't you even joke about something like that!' Dean gasped in horror, 'don't worry Baby … Sammy didn't mean it.' He said as he ran his hand reverently over the sleek black duco.

Now I have seen and heard everything,' Bobby said in mock horror, 'so driver Sioux Falls and step on it.'

'Wanna walk?' Dean shot back, though the heavy black pall that had slowly been descending over him was rising again. Sam almost sounded his old self again. 'Geeze backseat drivers, passenger seat drivers … I dunno but remember this driver picks the music … shotguns shut their cakeholes!'

S—D

Dean shook his head and had another jaw cracking yawn, he had been driving for too long and needed some well earned time off. Slowing down for the next town he silently resolved in finding a motel or hotel for the night, hell a hole in the ground would help.

'Why are we slowing down Dean?' Sam asked as he yawned and tried to stretch out his long legs.

'Town coming up and think we might hole up for the night, we're on the outskirts of Pensive Flats, sounds so … lively!' Dean said reading the sign as they drove past, 'okay first reasonable motel is our stop for the night.'

'Sounds like a plan kiddo,' Bobby added from the backseat, 'these old bones aint any good for sitting too long.'

'Aww we need to find ya a retirement home soon Bobby?' Dean asked chuckling softly.

'Nuff of that from ya, I can still take ya young pups on and win.' Bobby shot back, happy with the fact that the atmosphere in the car was definitely lighter especially when he heard Sam's soft giggles. Looking up at the rear vision mirror Bobby met Dean's gaze and they both acknowledged the welcomed sounds of Sam's laughter.

Pulling into the first motel with a vacancy sign he could find, Dean went to get out of the car to book them a room when Bobby beat him to it, 'ya stay in the car with yer brother Dean I've got this one.'

'Thanks Bobby.' The brothers said in unison.

'Dean?' Sam asked when he heard Bobby close the car door.

'Yeah Sam?'

'Is Bobby okay?'

'Whatcha mean?'

'I dunno I'm just getting this weird … not quite the pull to heal him but there's something he's trying to hide.' Sam said a thoughtful look on his face made Dean want to cry himself, he would give anything to see Sam's green eyes again.

'Dunno kiddo but I'll keep an eye on him for ya see if he says or does anything…'

'Thanks Dean.'

'So what about you Sammy?'

'Me? What about me?'

'Sam! Don't do that you can't pull anything over me, how are you feeling and you do not get to say fine!'

'Okay I'm … alright,' Sam answered cheekily but then he lowered his face and turned slightly from his brother's direct stare, 'I'm hurting some and yeah got a king sized headache but other than that I'm alright.'

'Honestly Sam sometimes I just wanna…'

'Got us a family room … oh sons of mine.' Bobby said unwittingly bringing an uneasy truce between the brothers.

S—D

Smoke billowed into the night sky, a thick strange smoke with the stench of burnt bacon permeating through it. Choking anyone who happened to pass through the slow dispersing of the odorous smoke.

Trees smouldered but remained upright as though the fire had untouched them but still affected them with the smoke. Leaving the once majestic trees standing but charred and sad looking, ash covered the leaves trembled under the weight, the branches curved in utter submission as the smoke choked life out of the last of the living.

In the centre of the grove was a pristine circle, with bright healthy green grass and sprinkles of daisies blooming unnaturally under the light of the moon. Against all of the barren, fields of death and destruction of the once thriving forest it sat almost gloating in the face of disaster. Gathering in the centre of the circle a group of young men and women, all dressed in black robes, their feet bare and nimble on the sleek grass as they moved gyrating to silent music. For all intents and purposes, they were a stereotypical coven worshipping whatever deity or devil they wanted; for any onlooker it was as though they were filming a bad b-grade movie.

As they moved in their never-ending dance around the edge of the circle, they started to chant in Latin, their voices blending in perfect unison creating music offered to the night sky. The longer they sang and chanted, the harder they danced and moved the louder they became as their voices raised to the heavens their eyes flickered and changed becoming discs of obsidian shining with fanaticism and love. A pit of fire rose from the ground in the centre of the circle blood red and tarnished orange flames flared upward pulsating in time with their voices. As the chanting and singing reached the climax, the flames literally jumped into the sky and danced over their heads singeing the trees and plants without burning them.

In the midst of the flames two figures swayed and flickered as they took on the forms of a young couple, the flames etched their features as the burning wood became their limbs. Once the height of the song and praising faded the flames receded, returning first to the pit caressing the entwined figures created by them and then slowly they returned to the earth leaving only a naked man and woman standing with their arms wrapped around each other. Born in an unholy birth of flame and smoke, parented by twelve, men and women evenly numbered and all wholly and purely demonic. The vessels burnt away by the fire leaving behind only the merged, a vessel melted and adhered to the demon forever one.

Cheers of happiness and celebration echoed in the early morning light, congratulations with tears and laughter and copious amounts of alcohol wetting the heads of the newborns. Now seated on thrones of rock and dressed in crimson robes they sat and watched their progenitors with looks of bemusement on their beautiful faces.

No one knew if they were twins or if they were not related at all, created simultaneously but no genetic connections. They both had fiery red hair and piercing ice-blue eyes, their ivory flesh was like porcelain, pristine without the slightest blemish. Perhaps too perfect but that was not considered in the celebrations. They were born of fire and night, creatures with insatiable appetites for blood and warm raw flesh. In unison, they opened their mouths revealing razor sharp fangs and screamed "food now!'

Immediately two humans were dragged to them, a young man aged only in his early twenties was thrust towards the female of the pair, and a young woman of similar age was given to the male. A howl of excitement came from the group as they watched them devour their victims.

'Hush my children,' Azazel said as he appeared in front of them, his hands spread out and upwards, with a benevolent smile as he gazed around at his progeny, 'you have done well, very well they are perfect.'

'Thank you Father,' one of the group stepped forward and bowed deeply to the master demon, 'we are pleased.'

'My precious daughter Meg, you have never disappointed me my child and this time you have excelled yourself along with your brothers and sisters.' Azazel praised her as he cupped her cheek caressing her face with his thumb as he stared down at her, 'what will you name your children?'

S—D

Sam woke in a cold sweat, instantly he felt around his bed grounding himself and then he listened intently for Dean, his breathing and soft snores an instant calming effect on the blind teenager. He swiped his face with both hands trying to scrub away the cobwebs and heaviness from his latest nightmare. His fingers trembled and all he felt like doing was to dig himself a safe haven beneath his blankets, never to come out again.

'Sam?' Dean called out for the third time, worry heavy in his voice, 'come on Sam answer me.'

'D-Dean?' Sam said blinking he tried to focus on where his brother's voice came from, jumping when Dean spoke again this time from right next to him.

'Sammy? What's wrong dude another nightmare?'

'I-I'm not sure if it was a nightmare or a-a vision.' Sam mumbled his pale cheeks smudged with red as he felt them burn in embarrassment.

'Hey, hey Sammy don't, don't get all embarrassed there's nothing wrong …'

'Don't Dean, just don't finish that there is so much wrong with me even I don't know where to start.' Sam said feeling an irrational surge of anger, 'I'm a freak Dean, a full on freak.'

'Yeah well you're my full on freak brother dude and I don't care.' Dean said glad for once that Sam couldn't stare into his eyes like he used to.

A sharp knock on the door startled both brothers and Dean pulled out his gun from beneath his pillows and slipped off the safety as he edged towards the door.

'Open up idjits afore yer breakfasts git cold,' an angry sounding Bobby yelled from the other side of their motel room door.

Quickly putting the safety back on and shoving his gun into his waistband Dean unlocked the door and stood back to let Bobby in, a comforting aroma of coffee and warm buns wafted in as he dumped his bags on the table. Locking the door behind him, Dean turned around virtually salivating at the sight and smell of their breakfasts, 'thanks Bobby we owe ya.'

'Yeah, yeah just add it to the list,' Bobby said as he took the lid off Sam's hot chocolate and unwrapped a warm cinnamon bun onto a plate swiping butter across the two halves before he took it over to the kid, 'here kiddo just for this morning breakfast in bed.'

'Wow thanks Uncle Bobby,' Sam said as he sat up and propped himself against the headboard a pillow appearing behind his head, 'thanks Dean.' He added sheepishly.

'Okay yer chocolate is on the chest of drawers directly to yer left, the lid is already off and its pretty hot, there's a buttered bun on yer plate and napkin right here.'

Sam lifted his head and rewarded Bobby's kindness and fatherly treatment with a wide dimpled smile before literally inhaling the warm, sweet bun, until he started eating he hadn't realised just how hungry he was.

Content with Sam eating for a change Dean and Bobby sat down and the three hunters ate their breakfasts in companionable silence. As they ate Dean couldn't help but watch Sam, his nightmare or vision; whatever it was worried Dean to no end.

'What Dean?' Sam asked finally breaking their silence.

'How do you do that?' Dean asked shaking his head and then continued without waiting for an answer, 'so what about your … whatever from last night Sam?'

'Dean? Sam?' Bobby looked from one to the other, 'care to share?'

'Sam had a freaking nightmarish vision last night,' Dean said succinctly to Bobby before going to sit next to his younger brother, 'so Sammy care to share?'

'Azazel he, ahh he's created two new demons in this weird ritual in the woods,' Sam tried to explain what he saw but the images and his words were jumbled and messed up.

'Just take ya time kiddo,' Bobby said as he sat on the other bed directly opposite the brothers, leaning forward he rested his elbows on his knees and reached out to pat Sam's knee reassuringly. 'Just let it come to ya.'

'In a clearing last night there was a group of demons dressed in black robes, they were dancing in a circle in the middle of a – a smoky smouldering forest.'

'You're doin' great Sammy,' Dean encouraged his brother without a thought he took Sam's hand in his own and squeezed it gently. 'What else?'

'A-a fire it seemed to come up from the ground and burst into the air,' Sam sighed and cringed at his own words, 'I-I know it sounds …'

'Just keep going Sam …' Bobby said exchanging confused looks with Dean, 'we'll work it out.'

'Umm the flames they were all around them in the sky but didn't burn anything it was weird in a way,' Sam paused for a moment and then shook himself as though he had just realised he had stopped talking, 'um yeah then – then these things came up in the middle of the flames and started to take shape. They – they turned into a man and woman with red hair and blue eyes and then they were celebrating. When all of the fire and that were gone they fed two humans to them and then Azazel turned up and talked to his daughter Meg congratulating her and asked her what she wanted to call her children.' Sam finished in a rush the last few words almost ran into each other. 'It was like I was watching a movie but I was there in the movie though no one else knew I was there. They are really, really, creepy looking things, they look like twins but I dunno if they are really twins or if they … I dunno I think I'm going crazy Dean.' Sam added with a sob, 'why did I see that? Why me? Why not someone else? I'm tired Dean, Uncle Bobby I'm just so tired and I want my dad.'

TBC


	18. Chapter 17

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

**Author's Note**: Thanks to everyone who has hung in there with me as I slowly make my way to the end of this first part of the Havoc 'verse. I appreciate each and every one of you more than you will ever know, this story is very special for me and to know that you're still reading helps so much.

A review or two would be nice as well ;0)

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

Chapter Seventeen

**Then:**

_Sam finished in a rush the last few words almost ran into each other. 'It was like I was watching a movie but I was there in the movie though no one else knew I was there. They are really, really, creepy looking things, they look like twins but I dunno if they are really twins or if they … I dunno I think I'm going crazy Dean.' Sam added with a sob, 'why did I see that? Why me? Why not someone else? I'm tired Dean, Uncle Bobby I'm just so tired and I want my dad.'_

**Now:**

Fortune is merry,  
And in this mood will give us anything.

(Julius Caesar 3.2.271)

The mood in the impala was the same as the scenery they passed on the way to Bobby's home in South Dakota; dark, desolate and completely miserable. Field after field of once lush green grazing lands were now nothing but patches of burnt ground and dead plants. Animal carcasses bleached white in the unforgiving heat littered the ground; starving birds of prey flew in restless circles searching the land below for any signs of life or anything that resembled meat at any stage.

The silence encroached on the lonely highways and tailgated those who dared to travel them all but one vehicle that bucked the trend at every chance. The sleek black muscle car drove along the bitumen, the motor purring and growling just like a mechanical predator. Every so often strains of heavy metal music flowed from the open windows though not as loud as the driver would have it if he were alone.

In deference to his two passengers, Dean kept the music to a conversational level of volume especially for one particular passenger. For him, Dean would have turned it off altogether if he asked, but Sam never did.

Slowing down as they approached the last small town before the South Dakota border Dean decided that they were going to stay the night without any argument from the others, though when he suggested it Sam gave him a small smile and a nod of his head and Bobby agreed without hesitation. Confused at acquiesces Dean almost called them on it but then he decided not to stir up trouble when there was none and started looking for the nearest and cheapest motel.

'What the hell?' Dean breathed as he slowed the impala down even more, 'what the hell is going on?'

'Dean what is it?' Sam asked sitting up straight in his seat he turned his head towards his brother and tried to conjure an image in his mind of his brother's face, 'what's wrong?'

'Dean watch out!' Bobby called out as a man staggered directly in front of the car and then collapsed leaving a bloody handprint and smudge on the hood of the impala.

'Dean what … stop please stop…' Sam begged as he gripped the sides of his head and tried to squeeze the pain away, gasping he tried to focus on anything but the pull to heal the dying man.

'No freaking way Sammy sorry but we're not stayin' here,' Dean said as he swerved around the body and pressed his foot down on the accelerator as hard as he could; he kept his eyes on the road and avoided even looking at his brother until the breached the town limits.

Bloodstains covered the main street; pools of it lay in the gutters as though it had literally rained blood. Cars were abandoned in the streets and windows smashed out of the shop fronts, body parts were strewn around like pieces of rubbish littering the sidewalks all it needed was an army of zombies terrorising the town to make it a complete horror movie set.

Sam curled into a tight ball on the seat, with his head covered with his arms, a soft mewling came from him as well as pain-filled moans. He started to rock himself though that did little to help, he felt so trapped he could hardly breath. The stench of death, pain and fear clogged his nostrils and fed the gnawing need to heal, someone, anyone.

'Sam talk to us,' Bobby tried to get through to the teen but he was beyond any form of communication, 'Sam, Sam please talk to us kiddo.'

'Bobby how is he going?' Dean asked frantically as he swerved to miss an upturned pram left lying in the middle of an intersection.

'You jest keep yer eye on the road there Dean,' Bobby said, 'I'll keep an eye on the kid for ya.'

'What the fuck happened here Bobby? This was untouched territory …' Dean said devastation heavy in his voice, 'where do we go from here?'

'Keep driving idjit keep driving till this is nothing but dust in the mirror.'

Suddenly Sam sat upright his sightless eyes wide and unblinking, his mouth gaped a little as he struggled to catch his breath, 'drive Dean please get outta here now!'

'What is it Sam?'

'They're here!' Sam gasped as he collapsed against the back of the seat, his head lolling forward.

'Dammit Dean he aint breathing!' Bobby exclaimed as he tilted Sam's head back gently and felt for a pulse, 'got a pulse but it's slow.'

'Ah fuck Sammy hang in there,' Dean said as he pressed his foot down even more and sped through the last remnants of the town without caring what he hit or ran over.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally raced out of the town and back onto the open highway, afraid to stop too close to the place Dean risked a glance at his brother's face and blue tinged lips, and then turned his full attention on the road ahead.

Skidding around a corner, he took a dirt track hoping that it would lead them to some sort of cover and safety until they helped Sam. 'Ahh shit … thank heaven or whatever!' As they cruised into a farm.

'You check yer brother and I'll have a look around,' Bobby said as he climbed out of the backseat with his gun already out and cocked.

Dean eased Sam out of the car until he was lying flat on the ground protected by the large vehicle and then knelt down next to the prone teenager. Leaning over him slightly he checked his airways and realised that something was lodged in Sam's throat.

'What the hell Sammy?' Dean held his own breath as he gently held Sam's mouth open with one hand and then carefully tried to dislodge the offending object with a hooked finger unable to do so he took a deep shuddering breath and scrambled behind Sam to lift him up and rest him against his chest.

'All clear Dean … What the hell?' Bobby came running back just as Dean placed an arm around Sam's waist and gave him three sharp blows between his shoulder blades and then the abdominal thrust for the Heimlich manoeuvre.

'He's choking Bobby,' Dean grunted as he repeated the process after checking to see if it had dislodged yet. After the third thrust, a small projectile flew from Sam's mouth leaving a bloody drool dribbling from his lips and shuddering pants. 'That's it Sammy, come on dude breath for me,' Dean coached as Sam's breathing slowly started to become stronger.

Bobby retrieved the offending object while Dean settled Sam back in the car, 'damn me Dean look at this.'

Dean glanced over his shoulder and stared down at the black diamond shaped thing lying in Bobby's palm, it was completely solid and about an inch or so in length.

'What the hell Bobby?'

Carefully Bobby lifted it up and stared at it against the sunlight, 'well it aint transparent, got a bit of weight and feels like coal.'

'What's that on the points?' Dean asked although he was sure of what it already was.

'Blood,' Bobby confirmed, 'Sam's blood it must've caught tight in his throat.'

'So how did it get there Bobby?' Dean asked but before Bobby could answer him Sam started to cough and moan as though he was starting to come around.

'Sammy?' Dean crouched down until he could look clearly at Sam's face, 'Sammy hey dude you with me?'

'Dean?' Sam croaked, coughing he tried to clear his suddenly sore throat, 'wha' 'ppened?'

'You had a rock in your throat,' Dean said as he cupped Sam's cheek in his palm and gave his brother a closer look, 'how are ya feeling?'

'Like I swallowed a rock,' Sam said as he started to cough again.

Cursing under his breath Dean reached in and snagged a bottle of water from the backseat, 'it's not cold, cold but it's wet,' he said as he tipped the bottle towards Sam's lips and let the liquid trickle down.

'How's about we get Sam inside and comfortable?' Bobby asked, 'looks like another storm's brewing.'

S—D

'So what do we do now Bobby?' Dean asked as he paced the small farmhouse kitchen, 'I mean what the fuck do we do now? Sam's got the spidey senses going overtime, he wants to heal anything in sight or not and now, now he's choking on mystery black rocks, what the hell Bobby?'

'Do ya wanna bring the screeching down a notch or ya'll wake him and the kid needs his sleep,' Bobby said as he poured out two cups of coffee and added a dash from his flask to each one, 'sit ya carcass down.'

Taking the coffee Dean sank down onto a wooden chair and sipped the spiked hot drink carefully, 'thanks.'

'Come tomorrow I think we should git to my place as we planned at least we can protect him there, till then we keep him as quiet as … I wanna check a few things with this rock too.' Bobby said as he turned it around in his fingers when suddenly he dropped it on the table, 'fuck!'

'Bobby?'

'Things red hot!' Bobby said as he blew on his fingertips, 'just started to heat up then.'

'What the hell?' Dean nudged it and felt the heat radiating off the diamond shaped rock.

'Dean?' Sam croaked startling both of the older hunters, 'Dean my eyes hurt.'

'What's the matta Sammy?' Dean stood up and went over to his brother, wary of what's going to happen next to his trouble-magnet of a brother.

'They – they feel funny like burning funny.' Sam said as he rubbed them repeatedly with both fists. Dean had to smile at the sight as he was suddenly taken back to a sleepy six year old Sam who didn't want to go to bed until their dad got home no matter how tired he was.

'Hey quit that and let me see,' Dean gently tapped Sam's hands away and tipped his chin slightly to make Sam look up, 'Sam can you … can you see anything?'

'Kind of blurry stuff,' Sam admitted slowly as he started to blink furiously, 'D-Dean?' Sam tentatively reached out to touch his brother's face and squinted close, 'Dean?'

'What do you see Sam?' Bobby asked as he came to stand next to Dean.

'I-I can kind of see your shapes and stuff but nothing … like your faces are all smudged but I – I think I …'

'How do you feel kiddo?' Dean asked trying to keep his voice neutral for his skittish brother's sake.

'My, my eyes are burning they, they sting but …' Sam started to rub at them again as tears slowly ran down his cheeks flushing his eyes naturally.

'Here sit down Sammy,' Dean guided Sam to a chair closer to the light and tilted his head up, 'Bobby can you get us some ice in a rag or something?'

'Sure thing Dean,' Bobby started to head off to the fridge when he stopped and stared at the black object that had choked Sam before, 'Dean come here for a minute and see this…'

'What Bobby?' Dean asked when he saw what Bobby was staring at, there was now just a pile of ash on the table.

'Dean?' Sam turned towards his brother and uncle and gave them a wide dimpled smile, 'why you two looking so strange for?'

'You, you can see us?' Dean asked incredulously, 'Sammy?'

'You're still really blurry but yeah I can,' Sam said, 'they still hurt though …'

'What the hell?' Dean said as he looked from Sam to Bobby to the pile of ashes on the table and then back to Sam, 'I mean what the hell?'

S—D

Lightning flashed across the sky lighting up the small farmhouse throughout the night, thunder made the walls and roof shake and threaten to buckle under its weight and furiousness, a little before dawn the rain started, so loud it woke the three hunters even though they had slept through the thunder storm.

'Sam you okay?' Dean yelled over the din from the rain.

'Yeah m'fine,' Sam's muffled reply came, 'hate storms.'

'Yeah I know kiddo, hey Bobby how you doing?'

'Yeah, yeah idjits I'm alright what about ya'll?'

'We're okay,' Dean managed to get out when it sounded as though hail stones had replaced the rain.

'This aint no ordinary storm,' Bobby said as he risked a glance out the window, 'damn the hail's nearly as big as golf balls.'

'Lightning, thunder, rain and now hail?' Sam said with a shudder, 'what next?'

'Don't … ahh okay I think there's been lightning strikes as well.'

'Don't say it Bobby …' Dean warned his adopted uncle.

'Fire looks like some of the out buildings,' Bobby said with an apologetic shrug, 'well Sam did ask.'

'What are … fire and ice,' Sam said as he looked up at Dean squinting to see him properly, 'Dean fire and ice…'

'Yeah so Sammy?'

'Fire and ice … they're here.'

'Who … hang on you're saying that you think what you saw?'

'Uhhuh, I dunno why or how I know but … it's them Dean he's sent them after me.'

'Well then he aint getting ya Sammy, no how, no way.'

'Whatcha wanna do Dean?' Bobby asked as he watched the swirls of black clouds forming on the horizon, 'coz I don't think we're gonna have much time to plan.'

'Make a run for it to the impala but maybe we should leave em a little going away present?' Dean said with a murderous glint in his eyes.

'Whatcha thinking?'

'Some holy water bombs and cleansing fire?' Dean smirked, 'give em some of their own back.'

TBC


	19. Chapter 18

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

Chapter Eighteen

**Then:**

_Lightning flashed across the sky lighting up the small farmhouse throughout the night, thunder made the walls and roof shake and threaten to buckle under its weight and furiousness, a little before dawn the rain started, so loud it woke the three hunters even though they had slept through the thunder storm._

_'Sam you okay?' Dean yelled over the din from the rain._

_'Yeah m'fine,' Sam's muffled reply came, 'hate storms.'_

_'Yeah I know kiddo, hey Bobby how you doing?'_

_'Yeah, yeah idjits I'm alright what about ya'll?'_

_'We're okay,' Dean managed to get out when it sounded as though hail stones had replaced the rain._

_'This aint no ordinary storm,' Bobby said as he risked a glance out the window, 'damn the hail's nearly as big as golf balls.'_

_'Lightning, thunder, rain and now hail?' Sam said with a shudder, 'what next?'_

_'Don't … ahh okay I think there's been lightning strikes as well.'_

_'Don't say it Bobby …' Dean warned his adopted uncle._

_'Fire looks like some of the out buildings,' Bobby said with an apologetic shrug, 'well Sam did ask.'_

_'What are … fire and ice,' Sam said as he looked up at Dean squinting to see him properly, 'Dean fire and ice…'_

_'Yeah so Sammy?'_

_'Fire and ice … they're here.'_

_'Who … hang on you're saying that you think what you saw?'_

_'Uhhuh, I dunno why or how I know but … it's them Dean he's sent them after me.'_

_'Well then he aint getting ya Sammy, no how, no way.'_

_'Whatcha wanna do Dean?' Bobby asked as he watched the swirls of black clouds forming on the horizon, 'coz I don't think we're gonna have much time to plan.'_

_'Make a run for it to the impala but maybe we should leave em a little going away present?' Dean said with a murderous glint in his eyes._

_'Whatcha thinking?'_

_'Some holy water bombs and cleansing fire?' Dean smirked, 'give em some of their own back.'_

**Now:**

But I am constant as the northern star,  
Of whose true-fixed and resting quality  
There is no fellow in the firmament. (3.1.58)

Sam sat staring out of the window, squinting badly but he could still see, confused and aching all he wanted to do was to find a bed, pull the blankets over his head and sleep for a year. Why? Suddenly being able to see, spitting up that weird black diamond that was now a pile of ash, abilities going out of control and now the storm to end all storms.

'Yer okay there Sam?' Bobby asked as he sat down next to the teenager and tried not to be obvious about checking the boy out visually.

'Huh? Yeah I guess just confused, I mean why can I see again Bobby?' Sam asked as he turned to look at the man he now considered his adopted dad. 'Is it coz of that thing I coughed up or is it coz I'm just a grade A walking, talking freak?'

'Sam!'

'No, no it's okay Bobby honestly,' Sam said giving Bobby a small shy smile, 'it just feels weird ya know?'

'Are ya in pain?'

'No not really, aching more than anything, I have a helluva headache but that's just it, an ache not a pain.'

'I know that this might be a strange question and yer don't hafta answer it, but … do ya remember anything bout how ya might've swallowed that thing?'

'No not really I guess … when, when I was being held prisoner by … they forced me to swallow this concoction it tasted like ashes.' Sam said as he sat up and stared wide-eyed at Bobby, 'they forced this stuff down my throat, it burnt so bad and – and I felt kindof weird immediately afterwards.' Sam shifted his gaze back to the window as he became lost in the memory.

'Sam?' Bobby tried to get Sam to look at him again but the teen remained staring outside at the raging storm.

'I don't understand Bobby, why me? I mean yeah I can understand that we're a target coz dad was such a force against the demons but why me? What did I do to deserve any of this? I don't want to have these empathic abilities or the visions, what did I do?'

'Nuthin' kiddo, nuthin' at all,' Bobby said as he tried to think of comforting words for Sam but they all felt so artificial and forced.

'So we ready to fight back or what?' Dean asked as he strode into the room, 'ready to kick some demon butt Sammy?'

'It's Sam and whatcha on about Dean?' Sam asked as he looked up at his older brother and tried to look annoyed with him.

'Aint no good sittin' around feeling sorry for ourselves here, we're gonna make a run for Bobby's place, call in reinforcements and then hit the fuckers where it hurts.'

'Uhhuh and exactly how ya gonna do that genius? Set foot outside and ya can guarantee a lightening strike and hail hitting ya from here to Sunday.'

'Tomorrow is Sunday,' Dean said, 'so m'gonna run for baby and reverse her up to the door, when I'm in place you and Sammy come running. We need ammunition, more weapons and your special ammunition Bobby. Not a great plan but we can't hole up here forever either.'

'It's alright Bobby, I'll be fine.' Sam said smiling warmly at the hunter, 'but I think it should be me out there.'

'No way in the wide world Sammy, it aint gonna happen so don't even think about it,' Dean said vehemently, 'you are not gonna make yourself bait.'

'Dean…' Sam started turning his large puppy dog eyes in Dean's direction, 'this'll give you and Bobby the best chance to get out…'

'Just wait for my signal Sam, Bobby I'll be right back,' Dean said with a quick wink to his little brother he disappeared before either Sam or Bobby had time to react.

'Damn little idjit, what's he gonna … oh shit Sam our stuff ready?'

'Huh? Oh yeah why … ahh man Dean!' Sam's eyes widened in shock as he watched dirt and debris kick up from the scorching tyres of the impala.

Minutes later they had the car packed, Sam safely in the shotgun position, Bobby in the backseat and with the storm raging in the skies behind them as Dean sped out of the farmyard and with a screeching of tyres their getaway was relatively easy.

S—D

Sam stared around Bobby's living room with glittering eyes; he never thought that he would literally see the place again. His gaze fixed on the books overflowing Bobby's bookcases and a small smile played on his lips, a yearning deep down inside started to awaken again and Sam itched to get back to reading and researching.

Hesitantly he stepped into the room but then stopped suddenly and frowned something didn't feel right. Closing his eyes and letting his mind settle Sam sent out psychic 'feelers' and the vibrations stung as they bounced back at him. Something, not someone has been inside Bobby's house.

'Dean! Bobby!' Sam yelled urgently as he dropped the bag he was carrying and stepped closer to the kitchen, the cloying stench of blood and decaying flesh made him want to throw up it was every where although nothing appeared to have been touched or moved. 'Dean!'

'What Sam? What's wrong?'

'Something's been in here,' Sam said as he turned to look at his brother's blurred features, 'something was looking, searching … it came in here and the kitchen…'

'It's in here,' Bobby yelled from kitchen as the two boys hurried into the other room Sam skidded to a stop and shivered violently, 'so cold in here.'

'Bobby? Sam? What the hell?' Dean looked at his stricken brother and then over to an equally stricken Bobby who was staring in shock at the back door.

'It didn't get far,' Bobby said as he finally came out of his stupor, 'set off a trap.'

'Sam you alright?' Dean asked torn between Bobby and Sam, he wanted to go and check out what Bobby found but Sam was looking shaky and pale.

'Huh? Oh yeah Dean sorry it's just I …' Sam stared down at his hands and then lifted them up to show Dean, 'blood, why is there blood on my hands?'

'Sammy there's no blood on your hands,' Dean said and stepped closer to his little brother, everything else pushed back in his mind as worry for his sibling won out once again.

'I can feel it, see it, smell it, warm and fresh but … ' Sam lifted his head up slightly and smiled coldly, his eyes flashed red as his head cocked to one side, 'got a message for you humans.'

'Bobby get in here now!' Dean yelled without taking his gaze from Sam, 'who are you and what are you doing in my brother?'

'Hmmm who I am is irrelevant for now, and well let's just say that when Sam coughed up that lovely little black gem he let me loose.'

'Get outta him now!' Dean demanded and tried to take another step towards Sam, 'what the fuck?'

'Just need a captive audience for a moment or two,' the voice coming out of Sam's mouth changed as it gained more control, becoming deeper with a distinctive accent, 'so many things was done to young Sam here when that idiot took him. I tried to help but unfortunately I was rather trapped myself.'

'Who are ya?' Bobby asked as he found himself frozen in place next to Dean.

'Oh alright if you must know, I am benign, neither good nor evil, actually I heard young Sam here crying out for help and well I am a sucker for lost puppies and all of that soppy stuff; I just had to try and do something. Though I think that's when that Azazel … I am getting ahead of myself.'

'Geeze talk much?' Dean muttered his patience worn through, 'get to the point, I want my brother back.'

'Sam's here and he's fine, just … sleeping. I will not harm the boy actually I have come quite fond of him.'

'What's yer name?' Bobby asked before he lost his voice, frowning he turned to Dean who also had been struck dumb. Furious they turned their glares to the thing currently using Sam's body.

'I said that I wanted a captive audience,' it said shrugging Sam's shoulders, 'okay now where was I? Oh yes, as I said I heard young Sam's tears and cries for help. Technically I am not supposed to help any humans but, there are loopholes, gotta love loopholes. We are Watchers, and normally we do not come to this plane of existence, however, Azazel brokered one too many deals with other factions and we feel it is time to intervene on humanities part.

The war was destined, unfortunately though it was not meant to last this long, and the outcome was not desired…'

As the creature continued it's monologue Dean rolled his eyes and gave the best copy he could of Sam's bitch-face, fuming silently he wanted to rage against the thing and force it out of Sam's fragile body but all he could do was … nothing, he was frozen solid and silent.

'Now, now none of that glaring at me Dean, it's important to listen if you want to defeat these new creatures Azazel created.' The entity in Sam smiled sweetly when it watched Dean realise the implications and to try and visibly contain his anger, 'ahh now that's better, so where was I? It seems that the demons with some outside interference I might add, were able to trap me in that black diamond, I know cliché but what can you do? One of those idiotic demons decided to force feed Sam with the diamond to see what would happen to him. The blindness was an unfortunate side effect, you see I perceive sight differently to humans, that is why Sam only saw white and indistinct shapes, and for that I am sorry he had to suffer.'

With a wave of Sam's hand the entity decided to allow Dean and Bobby to speak again but weary of standing it decided to resituate them. Dean and Bobby opened their eyes, feeling dizzy and disorientated when they realised simultaneously that they were now seated in the living room on the couch with "Sam" sitting on the chair opposite them.

'What the hell?' Bobby spat out.

'Much more comfortable for Sam here, I could feel him wavering.' The entity explained with a shrug, 'so as I was saying…'

'Can you leave Sam's body?' Dean asked his voice now icily calm and green eyes dark with suspicion and mistrust he glared at his brother.

'Not yet, I need to find another … receptacle suitable for myself.'

'You still haven't given us a name yet.'

'Hmm that is interesting as we do not have names we are simply Watchers but for now if it will make it easier for you, you may call me Jet.'

'So Jet, let me get this straight, you decided you wanted to help Sam but got caught by the demons and trapped in a black diamond and was then … they force fed Sam?' Dean felt his stomach start to churn with rage once again when he started to think of the torture Sam suffered at the hands of Azazel's son. 'What, what else did they do to him?'

'I am sorry Dean but Sam will tell you when he is ready,' the entity changed again, compassion and empathy flowed through the voice, 'the creatures Azazel created are abominations even for a demonic creation. I was unable to connect with Sam until the diamond was broken, the coughing fit was perfect and once he was able to hawk it up I was able to flow into the boy, and I was able to reign back my influence enough to return his sight. I must admit though your brother is delicious and beautiful inside and out. It feels so good in here.'

'Hey Jet you've got your eviction notice, what kind of receptacle do you need to enter?' Dean cut in on it's ramblings, 'I want my brother back.'

'Why now?' Bobby asked his eyes narrowing with suspicion, 'why did you decide to take over Sam now? Why not immediately after the breaking of the diamond?'

'I needed to reassimilate with my host it took a little longer than normal as Sam's state of mind is so fragile.'

'You have an answer for everything don't you!' Dean spat out, 'he's just a kid … why not use me?'

'I did think of transference to one of you but I need … a different type.'

'Dunno if I should be glad or insulted.' Bobby snorted shifting his cap back to scratch his head, 'so Jet what about Fire and Ice?'

'The minor demon splattered on your kitchen floor Bobby, it was sent to search out any gaps in your "security", as you can plainly see it did not make it out, so don't worry too much Azazel did not see everything.'

'Big comfort that is,' Bobby muttered, 'ya'll awfully quiet Dean, yer alright?' he asked Dean.

'Yeah thanks Bobby just got to thinking … you need someone innocent to inhabit don't you Jet?'

'Very perceptive Dean, yes a youngling who is still developing certain traits is the perfect receptacle.'

'Sam's psychic, with empathic abilities … his special talents is what attracted you to him aren't they?'

'Again very perceptive Dean.'

'So until we find another willing teenage psychic you're gonna stay in Sam?'

'That would be preferable, however, time is limited for Sam … his body will reject me soon, it has been through too much and sustained too much damage to maintain two distinct entities inside it. One will have to be completely assimilated with the other before the body expires.'

'Which means Sam will be lost forever?'

'It would seem to be the only outcome as he is the weaker of us.'

'What if I exorcise you out of him?'

'Won't make any difference Dean I am not a demon, I cannot be forcibly removed.'

'What the hell do we do now then?'

'While I am here and Sam sleeps it is less taxing on the body itself.'

'Tell us about Fire and Ice what do we need to know.' Bobby said with a warning glance to Dean.

As Bobby and Jet discussed the creatures, Dean got up and rushed from the room he could no longer stand listening to a stranger's voice coming out of Sam's mouth. His shock was soon replaced with horror and denial; his stomach cramping he just made it to the sink when he retched violently into it. Spitting out the last of the foul tasting bile Dean turned the tap on and splashed water on his face, rinsed his mouth and then left it running to wash the vomit down the drain. He dragged his sleeve across his mouth and turned away from the sink to look down at the lifeless body lying on Bobby's kitchen floor.

'Oh God no!' Dean gasped as he recognised the face and suddenly he found himself lost in memories of a group of child soldiers, all fighting for survival the only way they knew how.

S—D

Sam stared around at the strange dreamlike place he found himself in; logically he knew that it was not possible that he must be dreaming or having some sort of night terror and just can't wake up because anything else is just plain crazy.

He felt as though he was standing on a bank of clouds, for as far as he could see there were fluffy white clouds. Above him however, was not a bright blue sky or even a dark and stormy one but was just a vastness of black. 'Who are you?' Sam asked without turning around.

'I wish to thank you Samuel for allowing me to use your body for a short while.' The smooth voice echoed around Sam making him turn around to look at the interloper.

'I don't remember giving you permission,' Sam said cocking his head to one side he stared at the creature wearing his face, 'why not show me what you look like?'

'Because you do not have the understanding or the ability to look upon my true countenance so I appear as I am part of you.'

'You sound like an angel or something like that,' Sam said scoffing at the arrogant entity, 'so where are your wings?'

'Very funny Samuel, getting back to your question on why you do not remember my getting permission from you … you were rather preoccupied at the time with trying to survive captivity.'

'What the…?'

'When you were prisoner of that irritating little demonic creature.' The entity sniffed.

'Oh.' Sam tried not to remember a lot of what happened to him when he was a captive of Charzael or Chaz, 'I … I don't…'

'The most unfortunate side affect was your blindness…'

'My – my blindness?' Sam stared at his counterpart in horror, 'that was when my … my dad was with me?'

'Yes it seems so…'

'How? How did you get inside me?' Sam choked out the words.

'Think back Sam it will come to you, remember when Azazel broke your ankle and you felt a surge of power?'

The memories came back in a rush, being pinned to the wall by Azazel, the argument between the demonic father and son and then Azazel declaring that Sam was his son and not John's, the pain of the broken ankle jolted through him again like a phantom attacking from the inside.

'That was you?' Sam asked feeling lightheaded suddenly as though he could crumple up and disappear on a gust of wind.

'Partially, I gave you the inner strength to deal with Azazel.' It replied smugly.

'Why? Why did you?'

'You had to escape to continue to where you are now, I had to … hasten things along if you like. You were losing the will to survive Sam, I had to make sure that you did not give up.'

'Why? Who said that you could interfere with my life?'

'If I did not then what would you have done Sam?'

'I don't know but isn't freewill just that, not knowing until you decide?'

'To a point, but you need to make sure that you are on the right path…'

'I am so sick and tired of right paths, and destiny I just want to be with my family, I want this cursed fucking war to be over and I want my dad back!'

TBC


	20. Chapter 19

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Then:**

_'How? How did you get inside me?' Sam choked out the words._

_'Think back Sam it will come to you, remember when Azazel broke your ankle and you felt a surge of power?'_

_The memories came back in a rush, being pinned to the wall by Azazel, the argument between the demonic father and son and then Azazel declaring that Sam was his son and not John's The pain of the broken ankle jolted through him again like a phantom attacking from the inside. _

_'That was you?' Sam asked feeling lightheaded suddenly as though he could crumple up and disappear on a gust of wind._

_'Partially, I gave you the inner strength to deal with Azazel.' It replied smugly._

_'Why? Why did you?'_

_'You had to escape to continue to where you are now, I had to … hasten things along if you like. You were losing the will to survive Sam, I had to make sure that you did not give up.'_

_'Why? Who said that you could interfere with my life?'_

_'If I did not then what would you have done Sam?'_

_'I don't know but isn't freewill just that, not knowing until you decide?'_

_'To a point, but you need to make sure that you are on the right path…'_

_'I am so sick and tired of right paths, and destiny I just want to be with my family, I want this cursed fucking war to be over and I want my dad back!'_

**Now:**

I had rather have  
Such men my friends than enemies.

(Julius Caesar 5.4.28)

Singer Salvage Yard

Sioux Falls Sth Dakota

Christmas Eve 1989

'Dean?'

'Yeah Sammy?'

'Do you think Santa will be able to find us here?'

'Yeah why wouldn't he?'

'Well what if the bad men stop him from coming here?'

'What bad men Sammy?'

'The bad men Dad fights.'

'Sammy?'

'He sends them away when he fights them doesn't he?'

'Yeah he does he's like Superman.'

'They wanna hurt everyone don't they Dean? The big bad guys …'

'Where's this coming from Sammy? Ya know that Dad'll make sure that nothing happens to us.'

'Yeah coz he's Superman,' Sammy nodded his head and gazed out the living room window with a serious look on his little face. At seven years of age, Sam Winchester was considered small for his age, to the point of scrawniness although he had a healthy appetite and was very active. He turned to face his brother Dean with a very serious gaze in his green eyes and for the briefest of moments Dean got a glimpse of an adult looking Sammy. 'Dean do you think Dad's gonna be back in time for Christmas?'

There it was, the proverbial penny dropped and Dean realised why Sam was so worried about Santa. The truth behind Sam's worrying was the fact that their dad was already late coming back from his most recent hunt. 'He's gonna be here Sammy, he promised and Dad always keeps his promises.'

'Yeah I know.'

'So what's the problem little dude?'

'Nuthin' I guess.'

'Sammy?'

'It's just …'

'Geeze Sammy spill, I'll be old like Dad before ya tell me at this rate.'

'It's just ya know how Uncle Bobby gave us some pay for doin' our jobs?'

'Yeah?' He answered wondering where Sammy was going with all of this, 'and then Uncle Bobby took us into town to do some shopping…' he added hoping that that would spur Sammy on a little.

'Yeah I – I bought Dad a present with Uncle Bobby's help and if he doesn't come back…'

'Sam … Sammy Dad's gonna be here for Christmas morning but if you wanna be here…'

'Why? Where would I be?'

'Geeze take a chill pill little bro … just settle down, dad's gonna be here and it's gonna be a good Christmas.'

Sam sighed and gave his brother a tremulous smile, 'okay Dean,' he said as got up and disappeared into the hall closet for a few seconds, he came back in with presents wrapped haphazardly with old newspapers and recycled Christmas wrapping paper, 'gonna put em under the tree now.' He said smirking when Dean tried to grab at his present, 'nope not till tomorrow.'

'Aw come on Sammy just let me have a look,' Dean whined, when he stopped suddenly and started to sniff the air around him, 'ahh Sammy can ya smell that?'

'Yeah smells good huh?'

'Pie, that's pie I can smell and man…' with his mouth watering at the delicious sweet scent of apples and cinnamon pastry baking, 'who the hell?'

'No cussing in this house Dean Winchester …' Bobby's gruff voice came from the kitchen, 'come in and say hi to Ellen and little Jo.'

'Auntie Ellen?' Sam whooped and hurriedly put the last of his presents under the small makeshift Christmas tree, 'hey Auntie Ellen…' Sam greeted the older woman happily giving her a tight hug; even though they are not related through blood, Ellen Harvelle was the closest adult woman in their lives after the death of their own mother when Sam was only six months old.

She filled a small amount of that void whenever she could but as a hunter, and more recently a single mother and the widow of a hunter Ellen couldn't spend as much time as she liked with the brothers. Her husband Bill had died on a hunt with the boys' father John a year ago in one of the major Californian demon uprisings and now her life revolved around taking care of her daughter Jo and running Harvelle's Bar, a bar for hunters to go to without worry and in complete safety.

'Hey Sammy,' Ellen said as she returned the tight hug and then she looked over at the more reserved Dean, 'hey Dean how ya going?'

'M'good thanks Ma'am.' Dean mumbled but then he yelped in fright when seven year old Jo jumped on him and had him in a crushing hug on the floor. 'Eww Jo gerroff me.'

'Joanna Beth Harvelle get up now,' Ellen chastised her overeager daughter, 'come on we have to bring the rest of the things in from the car.'

'You staying for Christmas Auntie Ellen?' Sam asked happily, 'can I help?'

'Yes and yes Sammy,' Ellen said returning his grin when she saw his big deep dimples came out with his smile, 'you're gonna be a heartbreaker one day Sammy.'

'Eww girls yuck,' Sam wrinkled his nose in disgust at the thought of girls.'

'Dean's already on the way to being a real heartbreaker aren't ya Hon?' Ellen teased the older brother but instead of reacting like Sam, Dean grinned and wriggled his eyebrows at the woman.

'You have no idea Aunt Ellen,' he said cheekily, ducking the cuff on the back of his head from Uncle Bobby Dean ran outside to help Jo and Sammy bring in the rest of Ellen's things.

'He's a handful that one,' Ellen chuckled as she took the offered beer from Bobby, 'how are they doing anyway?'

'Well enough Ellen I guess I got 'em to do some odd jobs to earn pocket money and took em into town to do some Christmas shopping.'

'Now that would've been interesting,' Ellen said as she easily pictured a harried looking Bobby Singer being pulled in two directions by the cashed up brothers.

'Yeah good thing was that I was able to let Dean do his own shopping while I kept Sam with me until they went off to do some secret boy's business.' Bobby laughed softly as he remembered that little scene as they tried to hide the fact that they were buying him a present.

'Do they know?' Ellen asked as she shook off the laughter and became serious.

'Nope and how the hell am I gonna tell em?' Bobby asked as he finished off his beer, 'it's freaking Christmas.'

'Uncle Bobby?' Dean's voice startled the adults and they turned around in shock seeing the eleven year old standing in the kitchen doorway, 'what's happened to Dad?'

'Aw hell,' Bobby pushed his baseball cap back and then pulled it forward a few times as he considered his words carefully, 'where's Sammy?'

'Jo's chasing him around the car, what's going on Uncle Bobby? What's happened to my Dad?'

'Come and sit down inside Dean,' Bobby ushered the youth into his study and pulled the sliding doors shut to keep out other prying eyes and ears.

'Uncle Bobby you're scaring me, what's wrong with my Dad?'

'Ya know he was on a hunt with Rufus?'

'Yeah they were checking out a new outbreak in Nevada with Caleb and Walter.'

'They got ambushed, Walter died Dean…'

'He-He's dead?'

'Yeah he is son, now Rufus is fine but yer daddy and Caleb are missing.'

'M-missing?' Dean blinked back tears and fought to regain his composure before he looked up at his adopted uncle again, 'he's okay Uncle Bobby, I'd know if Dad was hurt bad or dead.'

'Dean I …' Bobby stopped and looked at the adult stare on the boy's face and shivered internally, this boy was gonna skip his teenage years and head straight into adulthood.

'Is all good Uncle Bobby, Dad's gonna be back for Christmas he promised.' Dean said as he gave Bobby a tremulous smile, two splashes of red on his cheekbones made his freckles even more noticeable.

S—D

'Wake up Dean!' Sammy jumped on his brother's bed, 'it's snowing! Dean it's snowing for Christmas.'

'Wha' 'ppened?' Dean yawned and tried to roll over and to burrow under his blankets against the cold morning air. 'Just a few more minutes Sammy.'

'It's Christmas morning Dean come on dude,' Sammy jumped up and down excitedly on Dean's bed, 'and it's snowing!'

'Sammy! Dean!' Jo's shrill voice cut through the relatively quiet morning, 'come on Santa's been already.'

'Guess we gotta get up huh?' Sammy grinned and poked Dean's ribs, 'present time.'

'Come on you two.' Jo said as she burst into their room without knocking, 'whatcha doing?'

'Get out Jo! No girls 'llowed.' Sammy yelled his voice filled with righteous indignation, 'this is a boy's only room.'

'Eww Sammy,' Jo giggled, 'but Dean called you a girl.'

'Did not!'

'Did too!'

'Did not!'

'Joanna Beth Harvelle you get out of the boys' room now!' Ellen's voice carried upstairs, 'now young lady.'

Poking her tongue out at Sammy Jo turned and ran out of the room before Dean finished his yawn and pushing back his blankets.

'Come on Sammy let's go.' Dean said as he pulled on his jeans and long sleeved t-shirt, although it was snowing and cold outside; Bobby's large house was warm, the large fireplace downstairs providing more than enough heat to keep it pleasant.

S—D

'This is for you Uncle Bobby, from me and Dean,' Sammy said handing the badly wrapped present to their "uncle".

'Thanks boys,' Bobby grinned at the two boys he sometimes thought of as his own sons, he pulled the paper away to reveal a charm pouch on a leather strap and a shiny new pocket knife.

'The pocket knife is from Dean and the pouch is from me,' Sammy said shyly, 'so you can use it for all of the different stuff you wear.'

'Thanks boys I love em,' Bobby said his voice slightly gruffer with emotion, 'this one's for ya Sammy and wanna pass this one to ya brother for me Sammy?'

'Thanks Uncle Bobby,' the boys said in unison as they both tore into their presents.

'Wow thanks Uncle Bobby!' Dean exclaimed when he unwrapped a new hunting knife with a leather belt sheath, 'so cool.'

'Glad that ya like it Dean,' Bobby said with a small sigh of relief hidden in his voice, 'do you like yours Sammy?'

'I love it Uncle Bobby thank you,' Sammy said as he jumped up and gave Bobby a hug, 'look Dean Uncle Bobby gave me my own journal.' The young boy proudly displayed the leather bound book to his older brother, 'it has a proper ink pen with it too.'

'Thanks for the presents Uncle Bobby.' Dean said, 'Sammy do you want to give Aunt Ellen and Jo their presents?'

'Uhhuh,' Sammy nodded and passed the gifts to Ellen and Jo with a shy smile, 'hope you like em.'

'Oh Sammy, Dean thank you.' Ellen said, tears stung her eyes as she concentrated on opening the present wrapped in purple tissue paper, inside she found a silver chain with a small piece of rose quartz dangling from it, 'it's beautiful boys.' She said as Bobby helped her put it on, 'thanks Bobby.'

'Looks good Ellen, you boys did a good job with that one.' Bobby said proud of his boys.

'Thanks Dean and you too I guess Sammy,' Jo said when she opened her present and found a pink lockable diary on the cover was a pink unicorn.

'Joanna Beth,' Ellen said with a warning note to her voice, 'that's lovely boys.'

'Sammy picked it out,' Dean said suddenly feeling uncomfortable as Jo gave him a bear hug, 'Jo!'

'Come here Sammy I wanna thank you too.' Jo said as she launched herself at the youngest Winchester.

A car door slamming outside silenced the small group; excitedly Sammy jumped up and ran to the window, 'Sam get back here now!' Bobby growled.

'It's Dad!' Sammy said as he came to a halt at the window, 'Dad's back Dean!'

Bobby stared at the boy in shock, how the hell did he know that? 'Anyway ya'll stay put while Ellen and me check it out.'

Cautiously Ellen followed Bobby outside to meet their visitors, 'well I'll be damned.' Bobby shook his head and again wondered at how Sam knew it was his father, 'well it's about time ya three freaking idjits, where the hell have ya'll been?'

'Gee good to see ya too ya old grump,' Rufus said as he got out from behind the wheel and opened the car door behind him, 'easy does it now Johnny.'

'M'fine, get out of it,' John's angry sounding voice echoed around the snow covered yard, 'm'not an invalid.'

'Yeah well yer do a good impression of one,' Rufus groused back.

Caleb slowly got out of the front passenger seat and managed a small smile for Bobby and Ellen, 'hey guys.'

'What the hell?' Ellen hurried to the young hunter's side when she saw him sway dizzily, 'hang on there.'

'Dad!' Sammy and Dean both called out from where they stood on the veranda, both wrapped up in their new jackets, beanies and scarves, 'Dad you okay?'

'Boys,' John breathed as he collapsed against Bobby and Rufus.

'Come on let's git this idjit inside, Ellen yer alright with that one?' Bobby asked as he slung his arm around John's waist.

'We're fine Bobby,' Ellen said as she guided the concussed young hunter inside. 'You boys get inside too.'

'Dad.' Dean ran down the steps and pushed Rufus away slightly so he could get in to his father's side, 'I got him Rufus thanks.'

'No probs kiddo,' the older hunter said as he ruffled Dean's hair and went to pick Sammy up, 'how ya doin' kid?'

'Merry Christmas Rufus,' Sammy said with a beaming smile.

'Merry Christmas to you too Sammy,' Rufus said as he carried the seven year old inside into the warmth.

S—D

John sat wrapped in blankets in the centre of the sofa with his sons either side of him, Rufus sat in one of the large chairs with Jo on his knee. Caleb sat in the rocking chair by the fire and Ellen and Bobby sat next to each other on kitchen chairs, the last remaining presents had been opened and warm eggnog passed around, one jug specifically for the adults and the other for the children.

'Dad can I give you your present now?' Sammy asked shyly he had the wrapped gift in his hands and had been twisting it around in his grip for the last twenty minutes waiting until the right time to hand it to his dad.

'Yeah you can Sammy, thank you,' John said though his smile was a little forced and looked out of place on his paler than pale face. He took the present and with shaking hands opened it to reveal a book about myths and legends with an ornate leather book mark, 'I love it Sammy.'

'Ya do?' Sammy beamed at his father's words, 'it has all about the monsters that we know are real but others think that they are legends.'

'Very hand thanks Sammy,' John put the book down and gave his youngest son a quick one-armed hug.

'Ahh this is for you too Dad,' Dean said handing his father another present, curiously he pulled the paper away to reveal a silver key ring in the shape of an impala on the back of it his initials and Christmas 1989 were engraved on it.

'Wow Dean I love it,' John said hugging his eldest son, 'it's perfect.'

Sammy watched his father and brother embrace each other so warmly, he looked down at the book dropped on the floor by his father's feet and then up at the key ring still gripped in his fingers and then with his smile fading slightly he stared at the flames in the fireplace seemingly lost in thought. Bobby watched the interaction between the Winchesters and sighed silently, _'ya freaking idjit John Winchester.' _The thought ran through his mind as he glared at his younger counterpart and then back at Sammy softening his gaze he wondered what Sam was thinking and tears stung his eyes. He inwardly shook himself and cursed at being a sentimental old fool. He had a funny feeling that this was only a glimmer of the future ahead for the Winchester family and for the youngest of said family.

S—D

Present day

Dean picked the body up and cradling it gently carried it upstairs to the spare bedroom, with an innate tenderness he reserves just for Sam, he laid him out on the bed and brushed a stray hair away from his face. 'Ah kiddo I am so, so very sorry,' he said sadly and scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. 'This should not be your future man, you should be meeting girls and hanging with your friends, not lying dead on the bed after being a fucking demon's meatsuit.'

'Dean boy yer alright?' Bobby asked coming to a halt just outside the bedroom door, he had been searching for the errant eldest brother since Sam had retreated into himself and was no longer able to speak for himself or for Jet.

'Ah Bobby? Where's Sam?' Dean took a deep breath and swiped at his eyes once again before turning to face the older hunter, 'Jet or whatever he calls himself.'

'Downstairs, Sam kind of went quiet and retreated right into himself, not even Jet was talking got me thinking that they were off somewhere in Sam's big mind having their own chat.'

'That sounds like something Sam would do,' Dean said thoughtfully as he chewed his lower lip and glanced back at the body lying on the bed, 'think we might have an answer to a new meatsuit for Jet.'

'Anyone we … damn Dean where was he?'

'He was the one dead in the kitchen, he was a meatsuit for the demon … fuck Bobby this is so screwed up, I'm so over it all.'

'Yeah I know kid but ya jist gotta suck it up and keep going.'

'But how long do we have to keep sucking it up Bobby? What about Sammy? He's been through too much already, how much longer should he have to keep sucking it up?'

S—D

Dean guided Sam into the spare bedroom and manhandled him until he was lying on the empty bed, 'dammit Sammy you've lost some weight, what am I gonna do with you?'

'Dean?' Sam gasped as his eyes opened and he sat up gasping for breath, 'Dean?'

'Right here bro,' Dean put his hands on Sam's shoulders and eased him back onto the pillows, 'gave me a bit of a scare there Sammy.'

'Where, where am I?'

'Still in Bobby's place, in the spare room … Sammy is Jet still in there with ya?'

'Huh? Jet?' Sam's forehead wrinkled as he tried to concentrate on what Dean was asking him, 'he's still in here,' he finally answered.

'Can, can I talk to him?'

'Why?'

'I think I've worked out a way of getting him outta you.'

'Wow okay cool.' Sam smiled wanly and yawned widely, 'm'tired.'

'How about you rest and let Jet out to play for a few minutes?' Dean asked, it was killing him inside asking Sam to let the intruder take control but it was the only way, things would be much easier with Sam's consent.

'Thank you Dean,' Jet said as Sam's eyes opened but Dean could see that it was no longer Sam's consciousness behind them.

'Don't thank me yet, just promise me one thing.'

'Anything that is within my power I will promise you.'

'Look after … look after him for me, he was a good kid and should never have had to go through what he did. He had a monster riding him, just look after him please.'

'I will Dean, he is someone special?'

'A – A kid I met not that long ago, he knew nothing but this cursed war, not even old enough to shave properly, he was part of a band of kids me and Sammy found and brought back into the command with us. They were just kids but most of them had more kills than some of the most seasoned hunters in the corps. I heard he had died but I – I didn't know he was possessed.'

'I will do nothing but respect his body Dean,' Jet said reverently as he felt Dean's heartbreak intimately, 'what else Dean?'

'At least you won't have to share this one, he's gone was dead before the demon …'

'I understand, thank you Dean.'

'Don't thank me just … just look after him and help my brother and we'll call it even.' Dean muttered, 'so what do we do now?'

S—D

Dean stood at the living room window watching the salvage yard carefully for any signs of a possible attack. Grey clouds hung over the property like a funeral pall, as he stared outside he noticed something tiny and white fluttering down to the ground only to disappear on contact.

'Snow?' Dean uttered in shock, 'it's snowing?' looking at the calendar hanging haphazardly on the wall above Bobby's desk he noticed the date, 'damn me it's Christmas next week.'

Shivering with all of his pent up emotions and issues Dean decided to get busy by cleaning the fireplace out and making a fire. His inner pyromaniac jumped for joy and Dean was sure that he had heard giggling with glee as he finally put a match to the kindling and watched as the spark slowly became a flame.

'Dean?' Sam's soft voice brought Dean out of his own inner musings and made him spin around to face his brother.

'Sammy?' Dean watched his younger sibling carefully, looking for any sign that it was just Sam in there, 'Sammy please tell me it worked.'

'Hey Dean,' Sam smiled softly and made his way to the chair closest to the fireplace, 'it's good to see you … well kind of everything is still out of focus but at least there's no more red, or white or any other colour.'

'And it is just you in there?'

'Just me Dean,' Sam said as he sat down carefully and gratefully in the chair, 'man m'tired.'

'Where's Jet?'

'He's still asleep, Dean is it really?'

'Yeah dude it really is, I found his body in the kitchen he was already dead and the demon long gone.'

'At least he's not in pain now, not with Jet.'

'When Jet was in you … were you … did you … was there any pain?'

'No not pain, just I guess the best way to describe it would be claustrophobic.' Sam said, and then blushed with embarrassment when his stomach growled loudly, 'guess m'hungry.'

'Now that's a good sound,' Dean grinned and patted Sam's shoulder as he went passed, 'take it easy Sammy and I'll fix us something to eat.'

S—D

For a brief moment, time seemingly stopped and allowed the world a respite. Snow covered the war-torn landscape blanketing it in the white of innocence, covering the scars of violence and rape on the land itself.

Strands of gold burst through the dark clouds, bathing the buildings and plant life in warm light and a person could be forgiven in thinking that the unholy war of wars was only a nightmare passed on from person to person.

Whether it was because of the time of year or because there was a lull in the fighting but for now there was a calmness and silence descending over the landscape that filled the last remaining humans with something akin to hope.

Sam stood in the front yard of the salvage yard or rather what remained of the salvage yard with his face upturned and eyes closed. He relished the feel of tiny snowflakes on his skin and finally the ability to breath without a tight band around his chest.

A chuckle escaped from his lips and a deep dimpled smile spread across his face as he felt like he was a teenager looking forward to Christmas and enjoying the fall of the first of the Christmas snowfalls.

'Sammy? You're gonna catch a cold out here,' Dean chided his little brother, he tossed some warm gloves and a beanie at him, 'put those on at least.'

'Not cold but thanks,' Sam said without looking down at Dean he pulled the woollen cap on and then pulled the gloves on, 'snow Dean, it's snowing.'

'Yeah I know Sammy.'

'Remember that Christmas ten years ago when we were here with Bobby, Ellen and Jo?'

'Yeah I do Sammy, that was when dad was missing and you asked me if Santa would make it.'

'That was almost normal that year wasn't it?' Sam said wistfully.

'Yeah I guess, especially when Dad … returned with Rufus and Caleb.'

'Yeah he liked his presents didn't he?' Sam asked his smile fading slightly as he felt the tightness around his heart again from the hidden and unbidden memory.

'Yeppers, hey remember that's the first time we caught Bobby and Ellen kissing?' Dean laughed at the memory of catching the two hunters in the middle of a passionate embrace.  
'Yeah they said it was coz they were under the mistletoe but I don't think we hung any that year did we?' Sam asked as he looked down at his older brother, 'nice to see it all ya know Dean?'

'Yeah I bet it is Sammy,' Dean took a moment to really look at Sam; his brother had finally put on a little bit of weight and had some colour in his cheeks. He had a long way to go with his health and rehabilitation but they were finally on the right path. 'So how's the head now? Do ya still have the urge to …?'

'To heal? Yep it's still there, all of the psychic stuff it's still there but…'

'But what Sam? Are you alright?'

'Yeah I'm fine, that's just it Dean I feel … good?' Sam said almost hesitantly, 'it doesn't feel like it's draining me anymore.'

'Wow, I mean wow Sammy that's great news.'

'I – I can still feel emotions as well,' Sam said ducking his head slightly, 'I don't want to go near people yet though.'

'I can understand that, what about Jet do you think he's still influencing you?'

'Nope at least I don't think so, I have no feel for him at all now, he's not even a memory in here it's weird. I mean before when I've been possessed there's always a – a remnant of a link left, like it feels as though they're essence is still inside and takes ages for it to fade but when Jet transferred to his new host there was nothing. Like he purposely cleaned up after himself.' Sam stopped speaking and stared at his brother, 'that sounded really weird didn't it?'

'Nah not for you anyway!' Dean said clapping Sam on the shoulder, 'how about we go back inside and have something nice and hot to drink?'

Sam nodded but instead of following Dean, back inside he tilted his face skyward once again; closing his eyes he enjoyed the feeling of the flakes falling on his lashes and cheeks. He heard Dean stomp back through the snow to the steps and a second or two later the door slamming shut behind him to keep in the warm. When Dean was inside Sam's smile faded and a shiver ran through his entire body; he was able to hide it from his brother's ever watchful eye but Sam couldn't keep the façade up for too long before the cracks started to form.

'Sam … Dean said to call you in the hot chocolate is getting cold,' a young man's voice called to him making Sam startle out of his reverie.

'Coming Jet,' Sam answered sighing he turned and looked over at the newly animated youth. It was still a little creepy to see Jet moving around in that body and a few times since the transferral, he had almost called him another name.

Jet was still an enigma to Sam and it bothered him that until recently he carried him-it inside his body and mind. Jet always said that he was there to help Sam, to get him through the horrors he had experienced at the hands of Azazel and his son Charzael. But, he had caused Sam's blindness and major health issues some of which are still lingering including eye problems so if he was completely benign and a benefactor for them why would he do that to Sam? Was it just a side effect of letting him ride inside or was there a reason that was not entirely altruistic?

'Sam?'

'Yeah I'm coming Jet.' Sam sighed and slowly made his way back inside.

S—D

'Boys where are ya?' Bobby called sounding almost happy, 'boys?'

'Yeah, yeah Bobby we're here what's going on?' Dean asked, 'keep ya hair on.'

Bobby stood in front of the fireplace and couldn't keep the grin off his face for the first time in a long, long time he had something to feel personally happy about. 'Just got a call from Pastor Jim.'

'And geeze Bobby it's like pulling teeth with ya,' Dean teased as he sat back on the couch next to Sam and slowly sipped his laced hot chocolate.

'He's bringing two passengers with him.' Bobby said.

'Two?' Sam asked with a smile forming, 'the snow is really bringing some good news what is it Bobby? Who else is coming for Christmas?'

'Ellen and Jo Harvelle, they're alive and coming with Pastor Jim.' Bobby announced and for the first time in years, in a tiny pocket of frozen time, normalcy visited the Winchester/Singer household.

TBC


	21. Chapter 20

**Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war …**

A pre-series story: Dean is 20 and Sam is 16

**Warning**: This story does contain violence and subjects of sensitive natures so if you find yourself offended by this please go read some of my more gentle/general stories.

S—D

"And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,

With Ate by his side come hot from hell,

Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice

Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,

That this foul deed shall smell above the earth

With carrion men, groaning for burial."

Marcus Antonius (Mark Antony):

Julius Caesar Act 3, Scene 1

S—D

09/09/1999: The day the world ended.

**Chapter Twenty**

**Then:**

_Sam's blindness and major health issues some of which are still lingering including eye problems so if he was completely benign and a benefactor for them why would he do that to Sam? Was it just a side effect of letting him ride inside or was there a reason that was not entirely altruistic?_

_'Sam?'_

_'Yeah I'm coming Jet.' Sam sighed and slowly made his way back inside._

_S—D_

_'Boys where are ya?' Bobby called sounding almost happy, 'boys?'_

_'Yeah, yeah Bobby we're here what's going on?' Dean asked, 'keep ya hair on.'_

_Bobby stood in front of the fireplace and couldn't keep the grin off his face for the first time in a long, long time he had something to feel personally happy about. 'Just got a call from Pastor Jim.'_

_'And geeze Bobby it's like pulling teeth with ya,' Dean teased as he sat back on the couch next to Sam and slowly sipped his laced hot chocolate._

_'He's bringing two passengers with him.' Bobby said._

_'Two?' Sam asked with a smile forming, 'the snow is really bringing some good news what is it Bobby? Who else is coming for Christmas?'_

_'Ellen and Jo Harvelle, they're alive and coming with Pastor Jim.' Bobby announced and for the first time in years, in a tiny pocket of frozen time, normalcy visited the Winchester/Singer household._

**Now:**

Between the acting of a dreadful thing  
And the first motion, all the interim is  
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream:  
The genius and the mortal instruments  
Are then in council; and the state of man,  
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then  
The nature of an insurrection.

(Julius Caesar 2.1.63)

Though no one really knows why but Christmas during any war throughout humanity's history has periods of peace, miraculous happenings and moments of sanity can prevail if only for a few short hours.

Snow covered the bloodstained and scarred earth; blanketing everything in a white cloak of innocence and just for that briefest of brief moments the victims and the perpetrators alike are at peace.

The modern trappings of recent times rarely exist now, there are no fancy computers hidden under Christmas trees, no latest electronic equipment, toys or games are in abundant supplies this year there may be some handmade clothes and treats to eat but that's all. As in wars of times past, the luxuries of life were in short supply but there is an over abundance of love and determination in the minds of those who still survive.

Children no longer demanded any trend laden items and the absolute must haves, no the children born after the start of the demonic wars had no idea of such things, their Christmas wishes were for safety and peace. For none of their families to die from starvation or deprivation and for them to stay free and to not become slaves to the creatures of the underworld.

S—D

'Sam, Dean get your butts outta bed it's Christmas morning!' A young woman's voice echoed throughout the house nestled in the Singer Salvage Yard, a once busy business with a regular cliental for the spare parts off the carcasses of the cars and for the mechanic who's speciality when available for work was the classic cars especially those from the late twentieth century.

'Sam, Dean come on get up!' the command now had a whining tone to it as she stomped up the stairs and raised a fist to the still closed bedroom door. 'Will you two get up!'

'Geeze give it a break Jo!' a muffled voice came from behind the closed door but all it did was to give her an open invitation to let herself in. 'What the hell?'

'Get out Jo!'

'Make me!'

'It's not your room Jo get out!'

'Nope not until you two get your lazy butts downstairs.'

'How can we get up when you're in here annoying us?'

Another set of footsteps could be heard running up the stairs and the bedroom door banging loudly as it was swung open again, 'Joanna Beth Harvelle you get downstairs now and do not disturb these boys again this morning.'

'But Mom!'

'No buts, geeze how old are you know Jo? Five?' Ellen Harvelle said as she grabbed her daughter's elbow and dragged her out of the bedroom shared by brothers Sam and Dean Winchester.

'Morning Ellen,' Dean said from the safety of his bed, he cocked a cheeky eyebrow at Jo before pulling his blankets up even higher, 'morning Joanna.'

'The name is Jo.' Jo said, her face burning with embarrassment, 'and geeze Mom treat me like a kid or what.'

'Act like one then get treated like one,' Ellen said before turning her attention to the boys, 'morning Sam and Dean, why don't you get your lazy asses dressed and downstairs so we can have breakfast at least?'

'Yes Ma'am.' The two boys said in unison.

S—D

Dean smothered another yawn and stretched his neck while surreptitiously glancing over at Sam trying to gauge how his little brother was doing. 'So who's next on the present train there Sammy?'

'This one is for Jo,' Sam said handing the small package to the young woman, 'and it's Sam.'

'Yeah, yeah, sorry it's not big or anything but we didn't have a lot of notice about ya coming.' Dean mumbled as he watched her rip into the paper, _nothing delicate about you is there Jo?_

As though she had just heard his thoughts Jo glanced up at Dean and gave him a small coy smile, 'I love it Dean thanks,' she said as she held up the small charm dangling from a leather thong, 'and oh yeah thanks Sammy.'

'It's Sam,' Sam said tightly, 'and that's fine Jo glad you like it.'

'Your next Ellen,' Dean said giving Sam the parcel to hand over to the woman who was the closest to a mother for them, 'sorry it's not much.'

'I'm sure it'll be perfect boys,' Ellen said smiling brightly she gave both of the brothers a quick kiss on the cheek chuckling when they both turned red with embarrassment. 'Oh it's lovely.'

'Dean carved it and I put the lacquer on it after he finished.' Sam explained watching Ellen as she carefully examined the small intricately carved box, 'I love it boys.'

'Thanks Ellen,' they said before turning their attention to their adopted father, 'here ya go Bobby this is for you.' Dean said as Sam passed their present over to Bobby.

'Aw boys thanks,' Bobby said when he opened their present to him, a silver hip flask with his initials and the date engraved on one side and on the other side of the flask were the words '_Hunting - Family Business_'.

'Thanks for everything Bobby,' Sam said with a smile, though it was his expressive green eyes that showed just how much admiration he had for the gruff hunter, salvage yard owner, mechanic and father figure.

'So ahh here's yer presents boys,' Bobby said hoarsely and handed the two brothers small parcels wrapped in newspaper, 'aint much but…'

'Aw thanks Bobby that's great,' Dean grinned when he opened his to find a new pearl handled glock pistol complete with its own leather holster. 'I love it,' he added as he weighted and sighted it.

'Wow, thanks Uncle Bobby,' Sam said as he opened his own gift and found two books, one was an antique looking book of myths and legends and the other was a small leather loose-leaf binder filled with sheets of paper with thick clear lines drawn across them and blank pieces for sketches and clippings. The front of the binder had a protection pentagram drawn on it with his initials in the centre of it.

'I know that yer still having a few problems with yer sight, so I thought that the paper with nice thick lines would help ya and the blank sheets if yer wanted to do any sketches or glue in any clippings and stuff.' Bobby scratched his scalp under his cap and gave the teenager a small grin, 'that and well I found out that ya had already filled yer old one to the point of things fallin' outta it.'

'Pastor Jim, this is from both me and Dean,' Sam said softly handing the cleric a small wrapped present, 'it's not …'

'I love it Samuel, Dean, thank you boys,' Jim said as he opened the gift to find a box of chocolate covered ginger and a bottle of brandy, 'how did you find these?'

'Lots of sweet talking and puppy dog looks from Sammy, it's amazing what he can get when he pulls it off.' Dean said proudly as he playfully ruffled Sam's hair, 'the old ladies love him.'

'Dean!' Sam whined as he ducked his head and blushed deeply.

The sounds of car doors slamming brought everyone out of their Christmas morning placidness and reaching for their weapons. Bobby crept towards the door with his rifle cocked and ready.

'Anyone seen Jet?' Dean whispered as he joined Bobby at the front door, his new Glock nestled in his grip as though he had been using it for years.

'Now ya mention it … nope,' Bobby answered glancing back at the others before returning his attention to the front door when a loud banging broke the tense silence.

'Singer you in there?' a well known voice boomed through the door.

'Rufus?' Bobby spluttered as he looked over at Dean who also wore a surprised look, 'how the hell?'

'It's as cold as Hades out here, let us in why don'tcha?'

'Us? Who else is there?'

'It's me Caleb,' came the reply and then there was a short sharp barking coming from what sounded like a puppy.

Bobby cautiously opened the door and peered around it, 'okay yer can come in but slowly and with yer hands where we can see 'em.'

'Rufus, Caleb Merry Christmas,' Sam greeted the two men happily as they came in from outside shaking the snow flakes out of the hair and coats.

'Sam?' Dean asked watching his brother carefully.

'It's okay Dean they're them,' Sam said his smile widening.

'Merry Christmas Sam,' Caleb said handing him a small wriggling bundle, 'this is for you before your brother gets too het up.' He added with a laugh.

'For, for me?' Sam asked shyly, 'you mean it?'

'Sure do kiddo,' Rufus said, 'we found him and well thought of ya.'

'He's beautiful,' Sam said as he buried his face in the soft fur and cuddled the small puppy close.

'Rufus? Caleb?' Dean eyed both of the hunters with an irritated stare, 'a dog?'

'A German shepherd pup Dean, and well we thought with all of Sam's health issues and being a trouble magnet we thought that a little extra security couldn't hurt.' Caleb explained with a laugh as they watched the pup cover Sam's face in wet licks before turning its attention to Dean.

'But, but a dog?' Dean blurted out until the pup jumped out of Sam's arms and trotted over to Dean giving him a warm lick and rub against his leg, 'well I guess he's cute.'

'Thanks guys,' Sam said as the pup jumped into his arms once again and nestled its head in Sam's elbow.

'You're responsible for him Sam, feeding, bathing, training and cleaning up after him,' Dean said sternly although there was no heat in his voice, 'whatcha gonna name him?'

'Umm well he – he looks like umm Thor? God of Thunder or what about Ares God of War?' Sam suggested knowing his brother would approve of those kind of names over some gentler names.

'They both sound good but he's yours so it's up to you Sammy,' Dean said as he scratched the pup's ear grinning when it pressed a little harder against his fingers, 'pampered pooch already.'

'Ares I think, with his black coat and well seeing he was born during war…' Sam said thoughtfully, 'thanks so much guys he's perfect.'

Jo sat back in the living room and glared at the new arrivals, they had utterly stolen her own thunder and now she was going to get ignored by a flea-bitten mutt, 'dumb dog.' She muttered as she sat with two unopened presents on her lap. 'There are still presents in here,' she called out as sweetly as possible.

With Sam carrying Ares and leading them, the others returned to the living room to finish opening the presents. Sam happily sat on the floor in front of the fire with Ares curled up on his knee, for the first time in too long, he felt free and unreservedly happy.

S—D

'Bobby has Sam mentioned Jet to you?' Dean asked as they started to get organised for their impromptu Christmas lunch, 'he hasn't said anything and there's no sign of the thing.'

'Nope aint said a word to me bout him,' Bobby replied as he checked their roast, 'and haven't seen it either.'

'I got a bad feeling Bobby.'

'Bad feeling about what Dean?' Rufus asked as he strolled into the kitchen, 'something going on?'

'Bobby why don'tcha tell Rufus about Jet and I'll go and check on Sammy,' Dean said preferring not to get into another discussion about the untrustworthy creature that had hidden inside Sam for so long.

'Sure thing kiddo,' Bobby agreed, 'where's Jo?'

'Think she's annoying Caleb,' Dean chuckled, 'he's her latest conquest.'

'Caleb?' Rufus spluttered on his mouthful of beer, 'I thought that you were her one and only?'

'Yeah well what can I say?' Dean said shrugging mischievously, 'I love em and leave em and keep them…'

'I would not finish that sentence if I was you Dean Edward Winchester.' Ellen said threateningly, 'if you know what's good for you.'

'Ahh yeah sure sorry Ellen,' Dean said ducking out from under her hand as she went to cuff the back of his head, 'promise nothing happened.'

'Uhhuh, why don'tcha git and check on that brother of yours.' Ellen said struggling to keep a straight face.

'Ah Dean … Edward? Edward is your second name?' Rufus asked with a wicked grin.

'Yeah it is, after Dad,' Dean mumbled, 'how did you know what it is Ellen? I never tell anyone.'

'Oh I have my ways you'll soon learn Dean that I will eventually find out everything.'

S—D

Dean crept into the living room closing the sliding doors behind him before he went over to check on Sam. His brother was lying on the sofa sound asleep, Ares curled into a small ball next to Sam's chest, with his muzzle resting on his front paws and his ears pricked up listening for any disturbance.

'Good boy Ares,' Dean said as he sat down next to the couch, reaching across he ran his fingers through the long strands of hair brushing them from Sam's face and then checked for a fever, 'not too bad there Sammy.'

'Mmm Dean?' Sam whispered as he shifted slightly, twisting a little more he uttered a soft moan and scrunched his eyes up, even in his sleep he was restless and seemingly worried about something or someone. 'Dean please, no, no … Jet what … Dean!'

'Sam, Sammy come on dude time to wake up,' Dean said as he patted Sam's cheek, he hated seeing his brother in the clutches of another nightmare.

'Jet please, please what … don't … don't … Dean!' Sam cried out again his distress clear in his voice. Just then, Ares moved closer to Sam, reaching up he nuzzled against his face and instantly the teen started to calm down. When he was satisfied that Sam was alright the pup snuggled back down and snuffled up at Dean before going to sleep.

'Good boy Ares,' Dean said scratching behind the dog's ear he sat back intent on watching over his brother until their meal was ready. Internally though, he was worried and could feel his anger growing, Sam was having a nightmare about Jet and that in itself was more than worrying. _Ya can't hide forever Jet … I'm here and aint going anywhere._

S—D

Azazel watched his latest progeny as they trained, ripping their victims apart, and using their different powers on them. Fire and Ice worked brilliantly and the demon leader was beyond happy even on this ridiculous holiday the humans celebrate.

'What about your little Princling?'

'Watch that tone of yours boy,' Azazel warned as he spared a glance at his son before returning his attention to the training arena.

'Forgive me Father but I do have some punishment in mind for the young whelp,' Charzael said as he unconsciously rubbed his aching neck, 'he needs to remember a few things.'

'Give it a rest Charzael … the boy bested you.'

'They blew my club up and he escaped.' Charzael snarled, 'he needs to be punished and to be taught a few things.'

'Sam Winchester must not die,' Azazel snapped rounding on his son he punched him hard enough to send him flying across the room, 'he is mine and no one else's.'

'Then what are you going to do about the brat?' Charzael asked spitting out a globule of dark red blood.

'That dear boy is none of your concern, all you have to do is to bring him to me. Do you think you can do that without messing it up?'

The twin demons stopped their training and listened intently to the exchange between their father and his offspring. Fire dropped the singed remains of its latest victim and nodded towards its sibling. Ice nodded its head and smiled, baring a mouthful of icicle-like fangs, heaving harsh freezing breathes it made everyone near by shiver.

'Who said you two could stop training?' Azazel yelled at his latest creations, 'bring them more humans I want them to be perfect.'

S—D

Squinting slightly, Sam squeezed the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily, even though his sight had returned he still had trouble reading especially small print, tiring easily he rubbed at his temples and attempted once again to read the same passage he had been working on for the last half hour.

Another migraine threatened but he didn't let anyone know, tired of being the weakest and the sickest of the group, he hated bringing any attention to himself when something as trivial as a headache threatened to sideline him.

'Sam?' Bobby tried for a third time to gain the kid's attention, finally he was greeted with a pair of bloodshot, watery eyes and a weary grin, 'Sam boy are yer alright?'

'M'fine Bobby,' Sam said with the patented Winchester reply, 'just a little tired.'

'Uhhuh and I'm the Queen of Sheba.'

'Did you need me for something Bobby?' Sam asked trying to deflect the older man's concern.

'Jest checking to see if ya wanted anything?' Bobby said trying for the more casual approach, 'I'm taking Jo into town for supplies and to give Caleb a break, was wondering if you needed anything?'

'No thanks … oh yeah maybe some more headache tablets?'

'But yer fine aren't ya kid,' Bobby growled a little, 'what else Sam?'

'What else what Bobby?' Dean asked as he wandered into the library looking for his brother, 'hey Bobby, Sam what's going on?'

'Nuthin' Dean,' Sam mumbled wishing that he could just disappear.

'Yeah what the kid said, nuthin'' Bobby said as he brushed passed Dean, 'I'll be in the kitchen if ya think of anything else.'

'So what's going on?' Dean asked after Bobby left the room, 'Sammy?'

'Dunno, Bobby just wanted to know if I needed anything from town,' Sam said a little shorter than he intended and found himself on the receiving end of one of Dean's patented mother-hen stare. 'Dean!' Sam whined when he felt a hand on his forehead.

'That's it Sammy, no more reading for you today,' Dean announced taking the book from Sam he slid the piece of cardboard bookmark in between the pages and put the book back on a shelf, 'come on you're on puppy cleaning up duty anyway.'

'He didn't…'

'Yep and don't think Bobby has…'

'What the fuck? Sam Winchester come and clean up after this mutt of yours!' Bobby's voice carried throughout the large house.

'Ah shit.'

'Yep the proverbial shit.' Dean laughed, 'come on Sammy let's go find Ares.'

S—D

Jet hummed to himself as he watched the house intently, he was starting to get used to the boy's body and now felt a lot more comfortable in reanimating the corpse than before.

'I suppose I should have told them that I was leaving but just couldn't help myself.' He said as though he was talking to someone sitting next to him. 'Yes I know but I don't want to leave Sam just yet. Why? I'm not sure why. I just have something else to do first. No, no I already know it is just timing.'

Jet sighed and leant against the roof of the shed and stared out over the barren landscape; he frowned as he watched black clouds gather on the horizon. 'Looks like I was right to wait after all.'

S—D

Little Ares sat up with his ears forward and hackles raised, he started to growl, snarl low deep in his throat as he lowered his front paws, and prepared to strike. Even though he was just a pup, he understood danger and the need to protect his Master.

'What is it Ares?' Sam asked as he crouched down next to the dog and gave him some reassuring pats, 'what's … oh no.' Sam moaned as he clutched at his head, screwing his eyes up he tried to block out the bright lights as the pain ricocheted through his mind. 'Not now, get Dean … Ares find Dean please … help … me!' Sam curled into a foetal position as the vision hit him, making him writhe and moan in absolute agony.

Ares whined and tried to lick his young Master's face, when he couldn't get any response from him the young pup sat back on his haunches for a second as his eyes darted around the room and then he scrambled off skidding on the floorboards searching for the other who looks after his Master.

'What's wrong Ares?' Dean asked when he saw the puppy's berserker rush towards him; two high pitched barks and nips at his ankles had him up and moving. 'What is it boy? Is it Sam?'

Ares yipped again and did a skid and slide as he tried to go back the way he came from.

'Sam?' Dean cried out when he found his little brother lying on the floor, curled in a foetal position and with blood trickling from his eyes, nose and ears. 'Oh God Sammy!'

'Dean we've gotta get Sam to safety downstairs,' Caleb ran into the room and came to a skidding halt when he saw Dean sitting on the floor cradling an unconscious Sam to his chest. 'What happened?'

'Vision, Sam's having a vision. Why?'

'Crap, crap, crap, shit, ahh looks like we're about to be under attack.'

'Attack? Here? Now?' Dean stared down at his brother's face stained with bloody tears and felt like curling into a ball himself and sobbing his heart out. He was so tired and over it all.

The sounds of gunfire and explosions answered Dean's questions, Caleb reached down and helped him to stand up with Sam still cradled in his arms.

'You get downstairs with your brother Dean,' Caleb said as he checked his gun, 'go on and get.'

'M'not gonna leave you guys, we're gonna fight side by side.'

'You have to protect your brother above all else Dean,' Caleb said his face as close as he could possibly get in with Dean's to emphasise his point, 'we can handle this attack but we need to know that Sam is safe and hell that you are too. You're Sam's guardian Dean, there's no one else who can keep him safe. Now get him and that dog downstairs and hunker in.'

'Cal…'

'Go kiddo … we'll come and get ya when it's safe.'

Dean opened his mouth and then reconsidered his words and gave his friend a terse nod, 'keep that head attached on ya shoulders, and look after the others.' Dean said as he turned to run to the basement door, 'where's Jo?'

'Right here,' Ellen answered as she stood next to the door with a firm grasp on Jo's wrist, 'you're going with the boys Jo no more arguments.'

'You too Dean?' Jo asked in shock.

'Gotta protect Sammy.' Dean said succinctly, 'take care of the oldies for us Ellen,' he added giving the older woman a kiss on the cheek, 'see ya in a few.'

'Take care of Sam and yourself Dean,' Ellen replied cupping his cheek with her hand, 'and that daughter of mine.'

'I heard that mom.' Jo said just as an explosion rocked the house, a loud rumbling and cracking sounded as a pile of car corpses toppled crashing into the work shed, 'Alright I'm going.' She added before her mother could say anything else.

Dean glanced up at Bobby as his adopted father started up the stairs; the two hunters nodded to each other and then moved in their own directions.

'Send Sam out and we will let you live.' Charzael called out from his position behind an overturned vehicle. 'All we want is the boy, after all he is nothing to you, he is the son of Azazel.'

Caleb hissed and turned his attention to Bobby, 'you okay old man?'

'Nuff of the old, idjit!' Bobby said chastising the younger man. 'Aint giving ya nuthin' but a butt load of buckshot.' He yelled in answer to the demon.

'Now that's not nice, all we want is that kid and we can let you all go free, he's not worth much.'

'He's worth more than anything ya can offer. The answer is no so git off my property.' Bobby said as he fired off a couple of warning shots, 'next time I aim.'

'You're an old fool.' Charzael yelled as he gave the order to fire.

S—D

Sam moaned and slowly opened his eyes as another explosion made the house shake above them. 'Wha' 'ppened?' He asked swallowing down on his rising nausea.

'Sammy?' Dean knelt next to his brother and cupped his cheek for a brief second, 'hey kiddo welcome back.'

'Dean?'

'You had a vision I think and passed out,' Dean said as he quickly went through a basic check up of his brother, 'we're under attack Sammy.'

'Bobby? Rufus and Caleb? What about Jim and Ellen and…?'

'Good to see ya awake Sam,' Jo said as she appeared just behind Dean, 'here's some water for him.'

'Thanks Jo.' Dean gave her a small smile and then turned back to Sam.

'Hey Ares,' Sam whispered as the pup started to jump up at him, wanting to lick his face.

'He came and got me when you passed out,' Dean said giving the pup a quick pat, 'good boy Ares, he knew exactly what to do.'

'He's pretty smart huh?' Sam said just as the house shook again, 'Dean?'

'We're gonna be fine Sammy, we just have to look after Jo and Ares.'

'They want me Dean.' Sam said as he sat up straighter and stared directly at his brother's eyes, 'let me go out there and save you all.'

'No can do Sammy, you just stay put and we'll all get outta this.'

'Please Dean, I – I saw it happening in my vision,' Sam said visibly fighting against his rising tears, 'I have to go, if I don't …'

'If you go out there Sammy I'll never get you back and you know that.' Dean said his own voice wavering with unshed emotions.

The acrid stench of smoke and burning flesh filled the air choking the three humans and one small pup.

'Ah fuck, okay we've gotta make a run for it,' Dean said coughing on the thick smoke, 'Sam you right to move?'

'Yeah, I've got Ares.' He answered and picked up the squirming and terrified pup, he carefully slid the small animal in his hoodie and pulled the zipper up, protecting Ares as much as he could.

Dean slid his arm around Jo's thin shoulders and with Sam clutching the hem of his jacket the ragtag trio made their way up the stairs and back into the main part of the house.

Dodging falling pieces of ceiling and burning beams of wood they kept as low as they could and headed to the backdoor of the kitchen. Dean knew full well that the demons would be waiting for them on the other side but they had no other choice. The fallen debris had cut off the front section of the house and the stairs were now completely engulfed in flames, coughing violently they made it to the door, reaching out Dean grabbed the door handle only to snatch his hand back crying out in sudden pain.

'Dean what is it?' Sam asked his eyes fixed on the burn fast forming on his brother's palm, 'let me…'

'Don't you even finish that thought Sam, I'll be fine till we get outta here.'

Before they could do anything else, they found themselves shivering from extreme cold, their breaths coming out in puffs of frigid mists.

'Fuck!' Dean exclaimed as he searched for a way out, 'the window, go for the window.' He yelled and pointed at the window above the sink. 'Now!' He wrapped a tea towel around his good hand and smashed it through the glass, 'Sam you first, here give me Ares till you get out.'

Within seconds of smashing the window, Dean had Sam and Ares outside and was helping Jo out when he felt something grab him from behind, 'argh not now!' he ground out as he kicked and struggled to free himself.

'Dean!' Sam shouted and struggled to climb back into the kitchen, 'Dean!'

'Get Jo outta here Sammy, I'll be right behind,' Dean yelled back as he fought his unseen attacker. 'Come on fugly show yerself.'

'Dean please get out here now!' Sam cried out when everything seemed to go silent. There were no more explosions, crashes or gunfire. No shouts or cries of pain nothing; no sounds of nature, no life sounds at all. All Sam could hear was the pounding of his heart as he waited desperately for signs of his brother's escape. 'Dean?'

'Sammy!' Dean launched himself out of the window, he scrambled over the broken glass and debris to his brother's waiting arms, 'Sammy!' he gasped and then against his own will he screamed in absolute agony.

'No Dean. No!' Sam screamed in response as he felt Dean being dragged backwards into the kitchen. With a final burst of strength, power whatever Sam was not sure what but he managed to drag his brother outside just as the noise, screams, yells, gunfire, bombs blasting … a cacophony of the sounds of war started once again.

'Dean!' Sam screamed as he held his brother against his chest, with Ares pinned between them. He fought to keep his awareness when all he could feel was the calling of Dean's pain and injuries. The need to heal was starting to pull Sam apart literally.

'Sam, we have to get Dean out of here,' Jo screamed at him, the young woman was clearly terrified but she clutched Dean's gun and stood over them protecting the vulnerable brothers.

'Dean, Sam! Jo!' Bobby's and Ellen's voices rose above the rest of the noise bringing them closer to the trio.

'Mom, Bobby over here!' Jo screamed as loudly as she could not caring if she gave the demons their position, all she wanted was her Mom.

'Dean, Dean please hold on,' Sam sobbed, 'hold on for me bro.'

'S-Sammy?' Dean's eyes fluttered open for the briefest of brief moments before they closed again and his breathing started to hitch.

'I have to heal him,' Sam mumbled to no one in particular, all he could think about and react to was, to be healing Dean.

Sam didn't feel the rough hands pulling him upright, supporting both him and Dean together as though they were one person. He never heard the voices giving him reassurance as they made him move. He never saw the destination they were heading to or the fact that they were able to escape. He never even saw Rufus and Caleb waiting with an injured Jim Murphy supported between them.

One moment they were huddled outside the kitchen window and then they were in the back of the impala speeding away from roaring flames devouring what was left of Bobby's home.

S—D

Azazel stood in front of his progeny and shook with impotent anger; it was bad enough that Charzael defied his orders he expected it of the moron but the fact that the twins had also defied him and tried to launch their own attack on the Princling and his cohorts. That was unforgivable.

'I gave explicit instructions that Sam was not to be harmed is that not true?' Azazel ranted, 'you Charzael I expected nothing less from you, you're nothing but a waste of space but you two, I had had high hopes that you would be my perfect weapon.'

'Father please we almost had him…' Charzael pleaded but became unable to finish what he wanted to say when Azazel drew his fingers across his sons' throat. A thin red line appeared across the white flesh; before the head lolled back, exposing muscle, tendons and blood. A look of shock settled in a death mask as life slid out of the eyes covering them with a milky white film.

'If you two want to follow him please try to explain yourselves if not get out of my sight until I need you.' Azazel snarled as he flicked imaginary fluff from his shoulder and strode out of the area. His son's corpse already forgotten as the oily blackness slid back into the pits. 'This is not over my Samuel I will be coming for you my son I promise.'

S—D

Sam sat up and stared blankly out of the window as the voice echoed in his ears. He didn't have to guess at whose voice it was, the threat was so ominous and final that the shivers running down his spine went unnoticed.

They drove straight through the night without stopping, worried that they were being followed, paranoia and despair fuelling them as Rufus and Caleb shared the driving. Ellen drove Bobby's truck behind them, with Jim and Jo seated beside her. In the impala even though he was not badly hurt, Bobby chose to sit squashed in the backseat with the two rather largely built brothers in case either one needed him.

'Have to heal him,' Sam said repeating the words in his own little litany of words.

'Sam, Sam son Dean's going to be alright, you jist need to keep calm and hang on till we get to safety.' Bobby said silently praying that he was getting through to the traumatised teenager.

Dean's left leg was a mess that was the only word Bobby could think of to describe it. His thigh was ripped to shreds, with large scratch marks from his groin to his knee, tinged with blood-stained ice on the edges. The ice was the only thing preventing him from bleeding out, the frozen congealed blood stopped any leakage and acted like a sealant along the torn flesh.

Just below his knee, something had actually bitten a chunk of muscle from his calf leaving a crescent shaped gouge, but once again, the frozen blood prevented Dean from bleeding to death.

Dean's skin appeared to be transparent; fine blue lines appeared just below the first layer of skin giving him an ethereal appearance. Little Ares whimpered and curled up on Sam's knee resting his muzzle on Dean's shoulder, trying to comfort both of his human pack.

When they finally pulled into the driveway of Jim's rectory a collective sigh of relief came from the interior of both vehicles. Exhausted, they all piled out their respective rides, and while Bobby and Ellen helped Sam with Dean, Jo supported Jim inside Rufus and Caleb went to check out the property before securing the vehicles and weapons.

S—D

As soon as Rick arrived he was hurried upstairs by Bobby to work on Dean, Ellen had managed to slip a mild sedative into Sam's milk, giving him some rest and a chance for the doctor to look at Dean without Sam's continuous and desperate attempts to heal his brother and the others.

'How are my boys?' Bobby asked when Rick finally returned to the kitchen and gratefully accepted a hot cup of coffee from Jo.

'Not good at all Bobby,' Rick said with a grave expression on his face, 'I – I couldn't save Dean's leg, it was too badly mangled, once the ice started to thaw the bleeding started and it was all I could do to save his life.'

'Oh God.' Bobby paled as he sank down onto a chair and hung his head down to his chest, 'what about the others?'

'Sam's in need of fluids and he had third degrees burns to his right arm and leg, he's dehydrated and I'd like to keep him under for a few more hours. Jim's going to be alright if he takes it easy, I removed the bullets and shrapnel from his hip, he might have a bit of a limp for a while but overall he was pretty lucky.'

'Yeah lucky.' Bobby echoed the doctor's last word.

'No! No! Sammy … where's Sammy?' Dean's frantic screams had all of them jumping up and running upstairs. 'Sammy!'

Bobby burst into the bedroom first, closely followed by Rick; they found Dean lying on the floor between the two beds, his sheets were wet and shining with fresh blood, the stump of newly amputated left leg caught in the bedding had blood pulsating from the now opened surgical wound.

Sam's bed was empty, the IV bag and pole were knocked over against the chest of drawers spiling the vital fluid onto the floor. The only other sign of struggle was a trail of small blood droplets from the empty bed to the now open window.

'Sammy!' Dean cried as he clutched the whimpering puppy, oblivious to his own perilous situation. Ares woke him with his frantic barking and licking as he desperately tried to help his human Master and pack brother. Confused and heavily medicated it took Dean a few moments to understand what had happened and why Ares was acting like he was before he tried to get up out of bed. Despair and helplessness shone in his eyes and he finally gave in and lost consciousness once again.

**THE END**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: IMPORTANT**

Before you kill me for finishing this story on a big cliff hanger, I am already working on the first chapter of the sequel and it will be up hopefully by Friday. WHEW! Just this one has gone as far as I want it too, the sequel will have a time jump but it will all hopefully come clear very quickly as to what happened to whom and when.

PLEASE remember this is a completely AU story, I am trying to keep a little detail from the canon of the show, and will try to continue to do so but it is very much a Mad Max style landscape where the demons are in control and the humans are the hunted.

Okkies I'm outta here to work on the next instalment, please review this chapter and the story as a whole if you feel like it.

Thanks so much for all of your support, there are certain people out there who know who I'm talking about who deserve a very special thanks and hugs, thank you from the bottom of my heart your support means more than anything else to me.

*****HUGGLES*****


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